


Fragments of Li(v)es

by Quinis



Category: Chuck (TV), White Collar
Genre: Bryce Larkin is Neal Caffrey, Gen, Orion is a bad influence, word prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:59:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7188020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinis/pseuds/Quinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spy game was a tough game. The con game was a tough game. Neal and Bryce are the same person and yet, no one noticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I was bored so I decided to start a new prompt fic. This time it's White Collar/Chuck. So, leave some feedback, maybe some words for me to write to and hang around.
> 
> This chapter's words are brought to you by KeJae.

 

**White Collar/Chuck Prompt Fic**

* * *

The spy game was a tough game. Bryce needed to fight. Sometimes, he even killed. It was like conning but, the stakes were high.

At times, it occurred to him that he shouldn't be the one making these decisions. Why should he decide between one life and many?

The con game was a tough game. Neal had to hide from government agencies more than ever before. Mozzie reappeared every few months with a new target or con or job for Neal to do. Neal became a legend because he pulled off the impossible.

Bryce didn't become a legend until he died stealing a computer the size of a football field.

Yet, no one noticed they were the same person.

* * *

**Crying**

Tears leaked out of his eyes. Bryce breathed slowly as he picked up his staff and stood back up. Before him stood his trainer. A master fighter and trainer. Bryce readied his stance. She mirrored him as she took her own stance.

Again, an attack he floundered to parry. A hit to his side.

Tears leaked out of his eyes. Bryce grit his teeth. He was a quick learner but he certainly wasn't on the level of this woman.

"Get up," she ordered. "If you think that's enough then you're going to die out there."

Never. Bryce decided as he readied his stance again. He wasn't going to die. He was going to make it through this hellish training.

He hadn't been trying to join the CIA but, now that he was here, he was going to be good at it.

"Out there, we wouldn't be fighting," he pointed out as he changed his stance. Something different might work.

She grinned a wolfish grin. He could see that she approved. He just wished he knew if it was because of his words or his change of tactics.

* * *

**Stunned/Shocked**

Bryce had to admit, he had been very sceptical. Who thought the CIA was recruiting kids not even out of college?

He stared at his badge. Mentally, he pulled it apart and went through the process he would take to forge one of these. It would be difficult to make it passable in all areas however, he had different approaches depending on what he needed the badge to do.

"Professor Fleming," he stated looking at the man across the desk. The Professor was short, almost completely bald and bespectacled. He bared a passing resemblance to another person Bryce knew.

However, while the other person spoke about conspiracies, this man created them.

"Taking a while for it to sink in, isn't it?" the Professor commented. "The world hasn't changed and yet, you've changed. Having passed training, you're now CIA, Bryce."

Bryce didn't know how to react. The only part of the training which bothered him was the combat skills. Everything else had been almost as easy as breathing.

Mozzie had taught him well. He was practically spy material the moment 'Bryce Larkin' stepped foot on campus.

"It's strange," Bryce agreed. He couldn't tell anyone and the Professor was his handler. He would come here to receive missions. He would be paid.

He had wanted to be a cop. This was his chance.

"Maybe a mission will help," Professor Fleming suggested, handing Bryce a package.

Bryce opened it and found plan tickets, a new identity and instructions for his mission. It was a simple switch-a-roo which anyone could pull off.

 _This_ was what the CIA considered a mission?

"Um..."

"Don't worry if you mess up-"

"Are you kidding?" Bryce questioned. "This is child's play."

The Professor blinked. "Really?"

Bryce stood up and tore up the instructions before placing a few scraps into the professor's bin. The other pieces would be discarded in random bins on the way back to his room. He had already memorised everything on the paper anyway.

He could memorise his new identity on the way back to the room.

"Get a bag which is the same as the targets and then execute an exchange without them noticing. After the training, I expected something like breaking into enemy strongholds."

"Are you complaining?" the Professor questioned with a cocked eyebrow.

Bryce thought about it. "Nope." Although breaking into places sounded fun. It had been a while.

* * *

**Proud**

Mozzie had looked on in pride when Neal; now known as Bryce, had been accepted into Stanford. Neal hadn't expected it. He had been stressed the past few months, expecting the FBI to locate him by this alias or the college to catch on to his false identity.

Yet, his story; Bryce's story, had held. Stanford had accepted him.

"Wow." It was all he could think to say.

"See, see," Mozzie said with a grin. "Told you it would work."

"Uh… yeah," Neal said. He could hide out in college for a few months, learning some interesting things he could take with him on his next con.

* * *

**Family**

This wasn't the plan. Bryce looked over at Chuck, asleep at his desk and felt something warm in his chest. This room was filled with college books and nerdy posters. It smelt of men's body spray, sweat and bug spray, even though the window was open. The dead bug in question, a spider, had been flicked out the window earlier that night.

There was a controller in Bryce's hands and the flickering of snow on the TV across the room. He got up and switched it off.

Chuck snorted awake.

"Forty-two!" he shouted.

"The answer to life, universe and everything?" Bryce countered automatically. A few months ago, that answer wouldn't have been automatic. He had been a nerd in high school, before he dropped out, however he hadn't shared that with anyone before Chuck.

He hadn't had anyone to share that side of him with. He had never imagined bonding with someone over Zork.

"And the page number I'm reading," Chuck said, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Really? Looked like you were sleeping," Bryce responded with a grin.

Chuck gave him a playful glare and waved the book around. "Don't act high and mighty with me! I know you haven't completed this week's readings either, Bryce!"

Bryce laughed. "That's because it's only Monday. I've still got, let's see, the rest of the week to get that done."

Chuck stared. "What else are we supposed to do?"

"Sleep?" Bryce suggested since Chuck seemed to be doing that earlier. "Or we could try that level of Mario again."

Chuck made a face and groaned. "No more," he moaned recalling the number of times they had died earlier that day.

"You know, I think it's a good idea," Bryce said, as if Chuck hadn't rejected it. He reached for the console and the TV, switching both on.

"You're a glutton for punishment, Bryce."

Bryce laughed and Chuck slid the chair over to join him, taking up player 2's controller.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Currently, this story takes place before the main events of Chuck and White Collar, although certain past events have happened. I haven't used all the words, the rest will be in the next chapter. It's just that **Cultivate** ended up long.

 

Words from LillianaNil

**Inception**

_Definition: the establishment or starting point of an institution or activity_

* * *

Orion was gone, leaving very little in his place. The best minds of the CIA had been trying for years to decipher his remaining projects and they were getting close. The Intersect was a computer which would instantly download information into an agent's mind.

However, not all were compatible with this kind of transfer of information. The project leaders had thought they had potential in Chuck, until he was revealed to have cheated.

Bryce was not a perfect substitute but he was a substitute nonetheless. If the Intersect worked with him, then they would be able to use it in a number of other agents.

How was it that Bryce did everything that went against Neal's instincts? Bryce was sitting in a chair before a screen, ready for the first test. There was no way this was going to go well.

He was nothing more than a lab rat right now and it didn't sit well with him.

"How are you feeling?" one of the analysts asked.

"Fine," Bryce lied. "Let's get this over with."

The analyst nodded and Bryce was left alone while the program started.

The Intersect was a strange thing. Bryce had been told that pictures would flicker over the screen, however, it felt like no time passed at all. He couldn't even remember what the pictures were.

His head throbbed a little.

"Download successful," someone announced over the intercom.

"Yay," he announced sarcastically as he let himself out of his bonds. He stretched and then turned towards the door.

He had been completely unprepared for the flash which overtook him the moment he laid eyes on the analyst coming through the door.

A flash of pain across his frontal lobe, white hot pain which caused his vision to flicker. The image of the analyst come to mind, along with every bit of information the CIA had on them.

"Ow," he groaned. If the Intersect in his head was going to do this every time he looked at someone, he wasn't going to make it through the post-test questioning.

* * *

**Cultivate**

_Definition: try to win the friendship or favour of (someone)_

* * *

Neal had been dealing with a bad headache for a while. At times, it would just be a dull thud in his head. At other times, it was like his vision was glitching out.

"Neal!" Mozzie snapped.

Neal twitched as his vision cleared to reveal Mozzie standing right in front of him.

"Moz?"

"I've been trying to get your attention! What were you thinking about?"

"Uh..." He had a feeling that Mozzie would approve of the response 'secret government computers' although he would misunderstand why Neal was thinking about them. "Maybe I didn't sleep well last night?"

"I don't understand why you might be thinking about something like that," Mozzie mused. "Unless something was interfering with your sleep. Did you go anywhere strange? Talk to anyone?"

He had flashed on a random person who had been walking down the street. They had been an explosives expert from another country and on a number of watch lists. Neal had knocked him out and dropped him off with the CIA.

Not bad for a day's work. However, it seemed to bring on a migraine.

"No," he lied and just afterwards went lightheaded. Mozzie grabbed his elbows to keep him from slipping off his chair.

"Okay. There's something off. There's a guy I know. We should pay a visit to Louie L; he's the best herbalist I know."

Neal twitched, visions flashing before his eyes. It would figure that out of everyone Mozzie knew, he had to say the name of someone in the Intersect.

Louie L; member of the DEA. Undercover as bait for drug dealers.

There was no way Neal was going to leave his fate to an agent.

"No."

"Neal, this is no time for hospital nonsense. We can't put you in the system just because of a headache."

"No DEA," Neal moaned. His vision was flickering again. He couldn't tell which way was up. "Won't help." The Intersect was malfunctioning. He couldn't contact the CIA the way he was. Neal Caffrey had nothing to do with any of the agencies as anything beyond a con. Bryce Larkin was the mysterious CIA agent.

Where had he left Bryce's IDs?

"Neal, this isn't normal. What's going on?" Mozzie sounded really worried, even though his voice was all static sounding.

"Something's gone wrong," he said. He couldn't hear his own words and could only hope that Mozzie could hear him. If only, "Orion," was there.

Neal tumbled into darkness.

* * *

Mozzie didn't know what to do. Neal was heavier than he looked. The taller man had gone completely slumped over. There was a wheeze to his breath.

Mozzie was worried. Neal was acting strangely. Knowing things he couldn't know. After all, how else had he known that Louie L was part of the DEA? Mozzie had discovered that information himself by piecing information and patterns together over months. He had never introduced Neal to Louie L because of that.

But, Louie L did owe him a favour.

Neal had said 'no' though and Mozzie had to respect that. He would want Neal to in the same situation. What was the other thing Neal had said?

Orion.

The constellation? No, it might be a person. Mozzie decided to put Neal to bed, monitor him and puzzle this out.

He had a heart monitor; just don't ask how he got it, but everything else would have to be monitored at intervals. Mozzie checked Neal's temperature. It seemed normal. If Neal hadn't fainted and wasn't still unconscious, Moz wouldn't have believed anything to be wrong.

Mozzie plugged the word 'Orion' into the computer. He found a lot of things but nothing which really sounded like what he was looking for.

There was a simple answer to this. Mozzie found a forum for stars and created a thread named 'Orion' and detailed in it that his friend seemed sick, said things he hadn't known a moment before and said the name 'Orion' before going unconscious. He finished with the question; "should I take him to see the stars?" to make most people not think twice about his story.

There were a lot of responses which ranged from the usual simple responses of 'yes', 'no' and just whatever the person responding thought. But there was one which stood up. It was posted no more than seven minutes after Mozzie created the thread.

_'If he was a computer, I'd question whether he had a virus.'_

Mozzie didn't mention anything about computers and was a little confused as to how computers came into this.

_'What makes you say that?'_

_'Have you ever heard of the theory of transferring information straight to the human brain through pictures?'_

_'The Man's primary use of brainwashing? I know. But, that's to alter behaviour, not cause seizure-like reactions and unconsciousness.'_

_'Seizure-like reactions?'_

Mozzie described how Neal's eyelids had flickered and his eyes had rolled up. His body had spasmed before he collapsed.

_'I might like to meet you.'_

* * *

Mozzie reluctantly liked this guy. He had a healthy sense of paranoia. Orion sent Mozzie to a place in Central Park where a loyal hot dog vendor handed him a message which told Mozzie where to go next.

The location he went to provided a code word he was supposed to send to Orion online, to let him know that the man standing before the sign and the person messaging him online were one and the same.

Back to the hot dog vendor to receive the location to go to next. Once he reached it, Mozzie pulled out his bulky laptop and sat down at a bench.

"What do you know about computers?" a man asked, taking the seat next to him. He was older than Mozzie expected, old enough to be Neal's father.

"I know they need power," Mozzie responded, as he had been instructed.

"And their use?"

"Training."

The man nodded. "As your friend seems to have discovered, they aren't good at training. If you aren't handing me over to the agency, how about I go have a look at him?"

"The agency?" Mozzie questioned. How interesting! It sounded like something from a spy novel. Excellent. "Have any agents ever had to abandon children for the child's safety?"

Orion paused, pain flashing across his face. "I would be surprised if they hadn't. Now, your friend." Orion pulled out a piece of paper. "Thirty minutes, this location. Can you manage it?"

Mozzie took the paper and thought about it. "If he's still unconscious-"

"Get a taxi and claim he's drunk," Orion said. "I'll see you there."

* * *

Luckily enough, Neal was conscious when Mozzie returned.

"Sorry about that, Moz," he said. "I haven't slept in a while." It was a lie, Mozzie knew. His meeting with Orion had proved as much.

Something else was going one. Something of a Governmental nature.

"I met Orion," Mozzie announced.

Neal froze. It was telling. Mozzie was piecing things together. Neal was involved with the CIA somehow. Either he was wanted by them or working with them in some manner. Perhaps he was involved with one of their pretty lady agents or something.

That would suit Neal.

"That's not possible," Neal said. It was like seeing someone else emerge from hiding inside his friend. Someone who shielded their emotions. "Orion's been off the grid for ages and no one's been able to find him."

"I'm impressed with his skill. Doesn't change the fact that we're meeting him in twenty minutes."

"What?" Neal couldn't process this. Had Mozzie done something not even the CIA's best analysts had been able to do? Either way, Mozzie was going to take him to this meeting place. "Fine. Let me grab something before we go." He lifted up the cushions on the couch and then the lining underneath, revealing a silver safe built into the couch. He keyed in the code and pulled out his gun, holstering it under his suit.

Mozzie ignored all of this, just as Neal had a feeling he would.

* * *

Orion looked surprised to see him.

"Bryce Larkin."

"Orion," Neal responded, standing tall and stiff, like the agent. The easy-going, relaxed posture of the conman was nowhere to be found.

Orion turned to Mozzie.

"You didn't mention you were an asset."

"I'm not."

"He's not!" Neal insisted at the same time.

Orion raised an eyebrow as Mozzie turned to Neal.

"Wait. Bryce Larkin? As in that identity we created to get you into Stanford?"

"You're saying that Bryce Larkin isn't his real name?"

"Of course not," Mozzie scoffed at Orion.

Orion turned to Neal as well. Neal was starting to feel the pressure of both their gazes.

"Does your recruiter know?"

"...not that I'm aware of."

"A very diplomatic response." Orion pulled something out of his pocket. "We'll have to discuss this later. Look at this, thank you."

Neal glanced at the picture in Orion's hand. An instant later, he was on the ground, pain lancing through his head.

"What are you doing with an Intersect, Bryce?" Orion demanded to know.

"You're torturing him? Not on my watch!" Mozzie stepped between Orion and Neal. "You take a step closer and I'll get the FBI here." He had a feeling the Suit would rush here to capture Neal. Neal was inching his way up their wanted list and those suits were dogging him at every turn.

"They can't do anything to me."

"I expect you appearing in their system is not good for your plans. Neither would the effort you'd have to expect to escape their clutches."

"The same goes for you."

"I've made avoiding the Feds into an art."

"You're slacking if you'd defend one."

"Orion. Moz," Neal said in a warning tone to get them to stop fighting. "Orion, you owe me. Whatever you're planning. Tell me."

"I'm not planning a thing. I ran to keep my family safe," Orion said as Neal climbed to his feet. "But, you are right. I do owe you. For keeping my son safe."

"Okay, I really want to know the story behind what you two are talking about," Mozzie commented.

"Later, Moz."

Orion pulled out something that looked like handheld console. "This program will block the Intersect. Unfortunately, removing it isn't possible at this time. The computer is stuck in your head, where it's a danger to you."

Neal nodded and looked at the screen of the console. A few moments later, his head felt slightly lighter, as if he wasn't using up brainpower to process something extra anymore. It still felt heavy but no longer painful.

"Thanks."

Mozzie noticed that Neal certainly did look better. He looked at Orion.

"Would you like to see Friday?" he asked.

"It's a safe house," Neal explained.

Orion thought about it for a few moments before shrugging a 'why not?'.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words from LillianaNil (Aschanti might recognise a few lines in this chapter). Also, with this chapter, I am out of words so, if you want to see more, then I'll need some more words. So, leave some feedback, maybe some words as prompts for me to write to and continue to hang around.

 

**Night**

Meeting under the cover of darkness wasn't always ideal. Personally, Bryce hated it. Good spies should have been able to meet whenever they wanted. Even in the middle of the day in a crowded shopping centre.

However, an hour before midnight in a closed down shop was a recipe for trouble. It didn't help that Bryce had cancelled on Mozzie in order to be here.

Bryce placed a hand on the gun tucked into his waistband. Reminding himself it was there.

"Hello there, Bryce," a voice said from behind the counter. It was a man. He stood there with a folder placed on the counter in front of him. He had a serious expression on his face as he motioned for Bryce to come closer.

"Hello," Bryce responded calmly. He had not been given an information beyond this time and place. Was this really the person he was supposed to meet with?

"You have no idea who I am?" the man questioned in a calm voice. As if he expected that.

"Care to enlighten me then?" he suggested with a grin.

"Langston Graham."

Bryce had heard the name. The man was a recruiter and dispatched agents on missions. He was high up on the ladder, although he was sometimes seen in the field. He was supposed to be good at seeing through lies and cons and had a bit of a silver tongue.

"You're not who I was expecting," Bryce admitted. He hadn't thought he would ever see Director Graham in the field, let alone seeking him out.

"There's someone I want to partner you with. I think you and she will get along well."

* * *

**The** **fall**

"Sarah, huh?" Orion mused as he typed away. Neal knew that he would have all the information in his new partner in moments. Orion had decided to hang around after getting the Intersect out of Neal's head. Something about having helped his son. Neal just thought Orion was using their safe houses, cover identities and Mozzie's paranoia to keep him from being discovered.

"I don't like this," Mozzie said, pacing around the zen garden with a wooden broom in his hands.

"I thought you were okay with me continuing to work in the CIA?" Neal questioned. It had been difficult to convince Mozzie to let him continue. While he didn't often show it, Mozzie worried about him. Especially now that he had been read into Bryce's CIA life when the Intersect had failed in Neal's head.

But, Neal had gotten him to agree to let him continue by promising to keep him updated. Orion had the most success by suggesting the Neal work for them in infiltrating the CIA. The man expected trouble.

Mozzie liked the idea of a conman spying on the spies. That didn't mean he liked Neal being the conman in question but at least he didn't tell Neal to quit.

"I'm okay with that," Mozzie said. "What I don't like is that expression of yours."

"What expression?" Neal questioned.

"The far off gaze you get when you talk about your new partner. I haven't seen that since Kate. And while I'm happy you're over her, I don't want you to be jumping in to bed with a feminine fatale."

"Moz," Neal sighed at his overprotective friend.

"I mean it Neal. Don't be the conman who gets his heart broken twice."

"I thought that wasn't possible."

Mozzie gave Neal a look that said 'don't talk back at me when I'm giving you advice'.

"Does the name Jack Burton mean anything to you?" Orion asked, stopping the argument before it could really get started.

Mozzie groaned loudly. "That fool. I thought the Feds got him."

"They did. Sarah's his daughter."

There was silence for a moment while Mozzie processed this and Neal tried to recall if he had ever heard that name before.

"Hm. And I actually liked her," Mozzie mused in a disappointed tone. "She had talent. It's a shame she joined the dark side."

Neal raised his hand. "Hi, Moz. Joined the dark side as well."

Mozzie dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "That's different."

"You could always join the 'dark side'," Orion pointed out.

Neal was about to laugh at the joke when he saw Mozzie's thoughtful expression.

 **Oh.** Oh no. Orion was serious.

And Mozzie was _considering_ it.

* * *

**Red**

A restaurant. A silver covered tray placed between Mozzie and Bryce. It was Mozzie's job to take the tray. He opened it near the edge of the table and slipped its contents, a gun, under the table.

The gun felt cold and heavy in his hands. Mozzie looked up at Bryce, at the expression on his face. It was an expression like stone. Bryce's blue eyes dark as he nodded in confirmation.

A Red Test. Mozzie had been warned about this. By both Neal and Orion. Neal had implored him to not do this. However, Orion had given him tips on how to deal with it.

Mozzie was going to do this. It was his last test to jump him into the CIA. Bryce had talked up his skills and he had proved those skills.

Mozzie thought this was their best con ever. Two conmen in the CIA, it was like a dream for Mozzie.

"So, who's the mark?" Mozzie asked. He didn't have Neal's aversion to guns. Even though he was starting to understand why Neal didn't want to touch them. As Bryce he already used them in ways Neal didn't like thinking about.

Bryce tapped his fork against his plate and then pointed it towards a man sitting near the door. His training with Mozzie meant that the motion was natural. "Think you can handle it?"

"No problem," Mozzie said.

A few minutes later, he followed the man out. Bryce was left to pay their bill. That was fine. Mozzie followed his mark and then signalled to the van which was following him.

The mark was grabbed the instant the van pulled up next to him. Then the van waited for Mozzie, who jumped in.

"Your assistance is appreciated," Mozzie said. The mark was tied up and unconscious, thanks to the taser Mozzie had provided the hired hands with. "I'll take it from here."

He paid the men, who jumped out, leaving only the driver.

"Alright. You have five seconds to start spilling everything you know about why someone would want you dead. Or. We go visit a friend of mine."

The man, a round man with a moustache and a fine suit, spat at him.

"Assassin! Killer for hire!" he hissed at Mozzie.

"Wrong," Mozzie responded. "I'm something much worse. And your five seconds are up." He knocked on the wall to notify the driver to move to the second location.

 

Bryce frowned at his phone. Time was ticking away and Mozzie had vanished. He knew his friend could pull vanishing acts which could make him jealous, he just didn't think Mozzie would do it at such an important time.

His phone beeped. A location.

Bryce quickly made his way to the location. It was a small warehouse. He found Mozzie standing in a room with the mark.

"What's going on?" he questioned.

"Oh, hey," Mozzie greeted him with a smile. The little man guided him outside, where they could talk without being overheard. "So, I managed to get a little information from this guy. He's stolen a couple of secrets above his pay grade and that's why the CIA wants him gone. Interestingly enough, the secrets he stole aren't CIA secrets but FBI."

"The FBI has secrets?" Bryce questioned in disbelief. He didn't think the FBI would really keep a lot of things secret.

"They are able to operate domestically," Mozzie reminded him with a shrug. "I'm not surprised that they've been spying on people."

"You don't know if that's the information in question."

"Bryce," Mozzie sighed in pity. Bryce hated that tone. What usually followed was a lesson in staying off the grid because the Feds were always watching. "I'm going to take the secrets and then offer them to the CIA for membership and a couple of safeguards."

That was a good plan. As long as it worked and the CIA didn't decide to kill Mozzie instead. Although, Bryce wondered if they would even be able to manage it.

"And him?"

"He'll be dropped off with the FBI. I'm sure they'll figure out something. Now, ready to play bad agent, good agent?"

Bad agent, good agent was a simple game. They both approached the tied up man. Now awake, he looked slightly panicked as he realised the kind of trouble he was in.

"Who are you people?"

"Winters, Agent Winters," Mozzie responded, pulling out the gun Bryce had given him back at the restaurant and cocking it. It made an audible 'click' sound which made the mark flinch. "And this is my associate. No, you don't get to know his name."

The mark rambled about how they couldn't do this and how he was important.

"No need for your stuttering explanations, Mr. Hon. Yes, I know your name. I know dates. And I know what you had for breakfast. We know all your secrets, we are the Agency. Surrender...and give me the teddy bear."

Bryce wondered just what a teddy bear had to do with anything. He focused on having a serious expression as he moved close to the mark and added in a quiet voice, "I would do it, he has a licence to kill. And he's not afraid to have you leave in a body bag. It's less work for us, you see."

The mark looked seriously spooked. "It's in my pocket! Take it!"

Mozzie grinned and reached over, pulling out a small teddy bear. He pulled the head off, revealing a USB.

That answered a lot of questions.

"Thank you, Mr. Hon. You've been very helpful," Mozzie announced before spraying something in the mark's face, causing him to instantly be knocked out.

"Wait. What is that?" Bryce questioned.

"Knock out spray. I developed it with our mutual friend." Their name for Orion, since they couldn't let the CIA know that Orion had talked Mozzie into joining them.

Bryce thought about all the times he could have used something like that. "Why don't I have one of those?" he demanded to know.

"Maybe he likes me better," Mozzie responded with a shrug. "Now, where does your pet Suit live?"

 

The FBI was shocked when Agent Burke called to say that a wanted man had been left tied up and gagged on his doorstep. The information he had stolen was on a USB around his neck. The man was terrified and didn't want to say how he came to be there. Not that anyone would of believed him if he spoke of a short, balding agent and his pretty male agent friend who threatened him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words from Hernando_Hale

 

**Remnants**

_(Definition: a part or quantity that is left after the greater part has been used, removed, or destroyed)_

Agent Winters was a dark presence as he moved through the CIA facility. Everyone knew to stay out of his way and they quickly realised to not mention Agent Larkin near him. The first agent to do so, talking about the damage the rogue agent had caused, ended up being kicked out the building with his clearance revoked.

Mozzie walked into the room which had been completely destroyed. Wires sparked from the walls and the console in the middle was a mangled skeleton of metal. He had read the first reports. There was nothing of this Intersect left. The CIA and NSA had lost all their intel and the wary partnership between the two agencies was broken.

 _"It'll be okay, Moz. I'll do this one thing and then we'll take a mission together."_ Mozzie should have spotted the lie. It was never just 'one thing' with Neal. Both of them knew they couldn't leave well enough alone. It wasn't like Bryce could go back to being Neal, not while the FBI believed Neal Caffrey to be in prison.

Mozzie followed the trail Bryce had made through the building.

Outside there were drops of blood on the ground. From the reports, Mozzie knew that it had only taken one shot.

Bryce had not died right away. He took those last few moments to send the Intersect somewhere. No average agent would be able to figure out where it had gone but, Mozzie was not the average agent.

He pulled out his phone and called a number.

"How is it?" Orion's computerised voice asked.

"It wasn't sent to me but it was sent. The NSA took the final shot. The CIA claims he died on scene." Mozzie paused. He was good at hiding his feelings. Maybe better than anyone else. However, there were some feelings which shouldn't be hidden. He let a touch of anger and regret show in his tone as he asked, "did you send him to his death?"

"No. I did not order this."

"But you asked?" Word choice was an important thing, in both of Mozzie's roles.

"I did not!" Orion bellowed into the phone, computerised voice crackling with static. "The Intersect is out there, in who knows whose hands! This is not my doing, Mozzie!"

"Shh! No names over the line!" Mozzie reminded the usually careful man. He decided to believe Orion for now. "I'll find out who he sent it to and maybe that'll tell us why he sent it."

"That sounds like a great idea," a woman's voice said from behind him. She didn't sound young, her voice hardened by years of spy work. It was the kind of voice Mozzie was wary of but also knew that he could listen to. "General Beckman of the NSA."

She certainly looked like a General. She was in uniform and had her dark hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. She was almost eye-to-eye with him but he was a little bit shorter than she.

"And what brings you here, General?" Mozzie asked.

"I want to know who Agent Larkin sent the Intersect to," she held out a broken down phone. "This is the item he used to send it. Get me a location, name, whatever you can."

Mozzie took the broken phone. There was no way he was going to refuse this. However, he didn't have to tell her everything.

* * *

**Dissimulation**

_(Definition: concealment of one's thoughts, feelings, or character; pretence)_

What had Neal been thinking?

Because Mozzie had an idea what had happened. He just didn't understand why he would do this. The phone's data had been encrypted and a whole mess of other things which were going to take Mozzie and his team of techs half the night to sift through. A few hours in, Mozzie just ordered them to pull the contacts list and order the data from date added. He hoped that would give some kind of indication of who had told Neal to do this.

There was a mess of emails added in the past 24 hours. Mozzie scanned the list, realising that most of them were probably fake. He had taught Neal this trick after all. None of his codes had been used in their creation. Neither had any of Orion's.

But, one email address stood out. Because he knew who it belonged to. He quickly checked with Orion, of course.

An email address for Chuck Bartowski. Orion's son and Bryce's old college buddy. Mozzie knew what Bryce had done to Chuck to get him out of the CIA's attention.

"Figure out who all these belong to and narrow down the list," Mozzie ordered a tech to do. The rest of them could keep trying to get the rest of the information, he had other things to look into. Namely, Chuck Bartowski.

* * *

With the reveal of the Intersect which had been downloaded into Chuck's brain, Orion ordered Mozzie to step back and let the CIA deal with it. Sarah had been sent in and it looked like the CIA was going to see how a human Intersect worked. Revealing themselves now would put them and Chuck at risk for no benefit.

The question still remained; why had Neal chosen Chuck? The more Mozzie learnt about Bryce's rogue mission, the more Mozzie wondered how long he had been hiding this from them.

It had to have been planned. Chuck's email had been added to a device which could hold the Intersect and even send it. A device which had been stolen from Orion so successfully that he hadn't noticed it missing until now. Bryce's way in and even his exit spoke of scoping out and planning.

Bryce might even had made it, if John Casey hadn't been around. Mozzie had always suspected that it would be one mistake that took his friend.

They wondered if Bryce had been forced to send it to Chuck in his last few moments, to keep the Intersect out of CIA and NSA hands. But why steal the Intersect? And why Chuck?

* * *

**Lies**

Orion had been surprised to see Bryce, alive and well, when he rejoined his family. Chuck had made good use of the Intersect. He had a team he could trust, which was more than most agents could say. Especially in these dark times.

"Orion," Bryce greeted him in a quiet, private moment.

"Bryce. Good to see you."

Bryce gave him a lopsided smile, more associated with Neal. "Don't lie. I know you're confused. Chuck can probably fill you in, I just wanted to ask about our mutual friend."

"He's..." Orion sighed. How to explain it? "Distant. Taking on less and less within the CIA and I don't think he's gone on a mission in months. They're trying to monitor his actions but they don't want to admit that they have no way of tracking him."

Bryce nodded as if this was expected.

"Do me a favour. Don't tell him I'm alive."

"I haven't spoken with him in person since your death," Orion said. He was rounding, it was about a month after his death that Mozzie started cutting strings and heading underground.

"That doesn't mean you don't have a way to contact him." Bryce was serious about this. "I don't want him involving himself in this. It's bad enough that I dragged Chuck into it."

Orion thought about it and decided to ask the question he and Mozzie had puzzled over. "Why did you send the Intersect to my son?"

"Any answer I'd give to that question will be a lie," Bryce responded.

Somehow, Orion wasn't surprised to learn that Bryce died again during the Intersect 2.0 testing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: So, a rather death-involved chapter. I'm eager to get to the White Collar parts... two words left from Hernando_Hale (deception and doppelganger).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: So many last minute edits on this one.  
>  _This chapter's words finish off the words from Hernando_Hale_

 

**Deception**

_(Definition: the action of deceiving someone)_

It wasn't hard to arrange his death. There was a reason Bryce went underground the moment everything had been cleared up with Chuck. He was hunted. Unable to move without the high levels of paranoia which constantly reminded him of Mozzie and Orion, the two most paranoid people he knew. They had taught him everything. Including that you couldn't run forever.

If he wanted to live, he would have to die. Neal had died a number of times, although Agent Burke had poked holes in every death to date in order to capture him. Orion was presumed dead, for good reason. The guy went over the top with his deaths, involving explosions and shoot outs and just action movie endings for himself.

It wasn't hard to arrange his death. This death, Bryce's final death, had to be a greater con than any Neal could conceive. He wanted it to stick.

Bryce pulled on a vest, padded with fake blood. If he was shot, it would look like he was bleeding. A couple of drugs, like blowfish poison, hidden in a capsule in his mouth would make his heart stop. He just hoped he would wake up when they wore off.

He didn't need to worry about arranging for someone to kill him. There were enough people out for his blood that he expected to get shot.

Chuck and his team attempted to save him. But, as he expected, he got shot and the hidden pouches began to empty, making it look like he was bleeding.

Looking into Chuck's panicked face and hearing him pleading for him to hold on, Bryce hesitated for a moment.

Chuck would never be safe with him around. No one would be.

With a silent apology to his friend, Bryce bit down on the capsule and everything went dark.

* * *

**Doppelganger**

Mozzie sat in the dark. The story, as he knew it, was that June had opened up her home to a conman out from prison on a work-release contract. The con had introduced himself to her as 'Neal Caffrey' and he worked with Peter Burke of the FBI.

It wasn't like the Suit to be tricked by someone sub-par so this 'Neal' had to be very close to what the real thing had been like. In appearance and attitude. Except, Mozzie knew that the real thing didn't exist anymore.

The door opened and Mozzie's eyes narrowed. Showtime.

"I saw the best mind of my generation get run down by the drunken taxicab of absolute reality," he misquoted the moment he spotted the figure in the door. As far as he could tell, 'Neal' had grabbed something to use as a weapon.

Should he move to use it, the doppelganger would be in for a surprise.

The lights flicked on and Mozzie couldn't keep his surprise from his face. It looked exactly like his old friend.

"…Mozzie? Sitting in the dark, misquoting Ginsberg?"

"The light's how they find you," Mozzie responded with an awed tone his voice. Either this was Neal, or someone who knew their role to the finest details.

This Neal played his role well. Perfectly. He asked Mozzie if he could get him out of the anklet and he had a forgery for him to look over.

"You know the worst thing about art forgery? You can't take credit for your work," he commented. Neal looked like he had just had a revelation and grinned.

"That's it!"

"Are we going to talk about this?" Mozzie asked suspiciously.

"Talk about what?" Neal gave him a baffled look. One which seemed completely innocent.

Mozzie knew better.

"About Bryce."

Neal's reaction was unexpected. His eyes widened and he closed up. "Bryce wasn't a good person, Moz."

Mozzie gave the anklet a pointed look. Neal tugged on his pants to obscure it. Only Neal would have reacted this way. Bryce had always been one of Neal's least liked aliases. Mozzie hadn't understood until he knew it was because Bryce belonged to the CIA.

"I mean it."

"Interesting resignation. Is it just you or are you encouraging others to leave?"

"As long as you don't bring the CIA down on my head, I don't care what you do."

"Trading the CIA for the FBI. It's kind of a downgrade. The FBI are the _suits._ Really, Neal?"

Neal chuckled at that. "I'm Neal Caffrey, I'll make it work." There was a pause. "Moz, this is the only question relating to Bryce's life I'm going to ask. We'll drink to him if you want and after that, that's it."

Mozzie didn't think that would be it, but he agreed anyway. Neal was going to be stubborn about this, just like he was when it came to Kate. There would be no changing his mind right now.

"Is Chuck alright?"

Chuck had finished his training and had failed to become a spy. However, the 'Bryce dead' thing wouldn't work if Mozzie gave Neal highly classified information. Especially highly classified information he only possessed from installing a backdoor into the CIA computers.

"He's alright."

 

The Dutchman had been arrested and Neal was officially part of the FBI as a consultant. Mozzie figured he could take a few days to head down to DC.

With the right knowledge, Mozzie found he could get past three doors and into restricted area before someone stopped him to check his credentials. Mozzie waved them off, putting in a call to General Beckman. She ordered him through.

"For the last two years, we protected Chuck from the world. But now, we have to protect the world from Chuck."

Mozzie raised his eyebrows as Beckman ended her video call.

"Agent Winters, it's been a while." She paused as she took in the glass he was holding. "Why do you have a glass of wine?"

Mozzie swirled the red liquid around and took a sip.

"Question for a question, answer for an answer," he proposed. "What's going on with Chuck Bartwoski?"

Beckman knew that Agent Winters had known Bryce Larkin, most of the agency probably knew that. The little man was good at slipping through the cracks and Bryce's enemies couldn't track him unless he let them.

Chuck had been Bryce's friend.

"Project Bartowski is back on. Agent Walker will monitor him and his emotional state as well as assist in his training." She heaved a sigh. "If only we realised sooner, we wouldn't have wasted money training Chuck to use something which his emotions can impede."

"Hopefully he grows to not need an emotional crutch," Mozzie mused, seeing through Beckman's plan and hope in an instant.

Beckman raised an eyebrow at him. "And your wine, Agent Winters?"

"Agents are less likely to stop me for questioning and things while I have this in my hands," he explained, raising the glass. "It allows me to slip where I will." No one bothered with drunks, even within CIA offices. They just assumed he had already been checked at the door and no one asked people with alcoholic drinks to do things.

Beckman frowned at that. She would have to have a talk with the staff, if they were ignoring the risks of people wandering around just because they had a drink in their hands. Not that it would help, Agent Winters was the only person who could make it to her office without giving out any information about himself. She had all but given up trying to figure out how he did it.

"General," Agent Winters said, "I'll be keeping watch over the Chuck situation."

She nodded her understanding. It was the most involved she had seen the other agent in a while so maybe this would be a good thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Updating at an odd time (for me to be updating) because I probably should have posted this earlier.
> 
> Words supplied by Aschanti

 

* * *

**Buried**

It was just a criminal drop. That's what Neal told himself as he walked down to a small park a few blocks from Junes. Criminal drop was better than spy drop. Even if it wasn't his but Mozzie's.

He owed Mozzie after all the help he had been giving him lately with his search for Kate and the FBI's cases. Especially the FBI's cases.

The park was a small patch of grassland which someone put a swing set and bird bath on. On the footpath outside was a post box. Neal walked past it, checking the side for the strip of tape which would indicate that Mozzie had a mission or something at the drop point.

Neal's heart sunk when he spotted the red strip before he even reached the box.

"It's for Mozzie," he muttered quietly to himself. Mozzie had respected his 'Bryce is dead' decision, not bringing up the burned alias at all during their encounters. He was even holding back from discussing his work with the CIA, beyond letting Neal know every few days that he was still okay and hadn't been captured or anything.

It was for Mozzie. Neal could just pretend that this had something to do with their criminal connections.

The drop point was in the lobby of a nearby building. It had a restaurant in the lobby which made it a perfect place for people to go in and out. It wasn't like they needed to worry about anyone looking in the plant displays. Not right now at least.

Neal walked in and around for a few minutes, as if deciding whether or not to eat there. Then he wandered over to the long plant display. There was a small scratched brick which indicated where he needed to go. Then he reached out, parting the fronds of the palm-like plants in the soil and reached down. He could feel something under the dirt which he pulled up. A small clear zip lock bag with a USB inside it.

Neal breathed a sigh of relief that it was almost over and walked out, heading back towards June's.

Smiling, he realised he had no interest in whatever was on the USB. He didn't really care about missions. He had to admit to himself, the FBI was interesting at times. Like the time when they investigated the smuggled Iraqi artefacts. He had managed to help someone and didn't get shot. Oh, and there was gold. Gold always helped his mood.

Mozzie was in his apartment. He took one look at Neal's face and asked, "you didn't look at it did you?"

"Nah," Neal responded, tossing the bag at him. "Although, I wonder what it'll look like on the security tapes."

"Please, if you're not trained enough to dodge cameras, you deserve to have the Suit catch you visiting my drops," Mozzie countered.

Neal had to agree. He had dodged the cameras when he did his pick-up.

* * *

**Concealed**

"Sometimes it helps to have something to fight for," Sarah's voice rang out from the computer. She was not speaking to the General, a bug in castle picking up her voice clearly.

"Do they know you're listening to them?" Mozzie asked from just behind Beckman. The General in question tensed. Had she been a lesser agent, she would have shot him. She settled for shooting him a glare which said as much.

"They are spies. I would be worried if they didn't think I was listening to what they say in Castle."

Mozzie gave an interested hum. "Assigning Daniel Shaw to work with them? What are you hoping to get out this, Diane?"

"It's about time the team had a dependable agent in their ranks. If Agent Larkin was still around, I would have asked him."

Mozzie laughed. "Agent Larkin is probably the only one who could even attempt working with that team for longer than a few missions."

"Agent Winters. You are not paid to make predictions about the viability of our teams."

"Maybe I should be," Mozzie countered. "Daniel Shaw is pushing himself between Chuck and Sarah in an attempt to make Chuck a better spy without realising that it's only going to cause tension in the future. It's going to fracture your little pet project and I don't know whether or not it will be able to repair itself afterwards."

The General pursed her lips. In short, clipped tones, she asked, "and just what are you doing here, Agent Winters?"

"What indeed," Mozzie responded. After a moment, he added, "I'm thinking of hitting a certain Buy More. Want me to pick you up anything?"

 

Buy Mores were amazing places. The gathering of humankind was unique and many lived their lives outside of society's restrictions.

Take the guy with overly greasy hair that Mozzie noticed the moment he entered. He was standing in front of the TVs, head tilted to the side while he watched some woman on the TV talk. He completely ignored anyone who tried to get his attention, except the balding, tall man with a gut who seemed to be his friend. Jeff was saying something about the 'Ass Man', whomever that was.

"Oi, we are tryin' to have a private conversation here," Lester said, running a hand through his greasy hair. "So, scram."

"Lester," Jeff droned. "This guy seems alright."

"We've been through this, Jeff. Don't trust the customers." Lester glared at him. "Bunch of spoiled and demanding children they are."

"I haven't bought anything," Mozzie pointed out, showing them his empty hands. "So I'm not a customer."

Lester seemed to consider this. "Your logic is... interesting. But! You are not of the Buy More like Jeff and myself. That makes you a customer."

The Buy More was an interesting place indeed and Mozzie wasn't just saying that because there was a spy headquarters hidden under the entertainment display room.

* * *

**Beständigkeit**

_(German Word. Can mean durability or persistence)_

It was a new kind of adult life. Neal would wake up, get dressed and have breakfast. He would sip at coffee far better than anything the FBI, NSA or CIA could put together. Government coffee was not a good reminder of what to fight for. There was a reason coffee shops and Government offices seemed to go hand-in-hand. Clever franchises went where a good cup of coffee was needed.

Neal would sip his good coffee while he waited for Peter to pick him up. Neal had never had a car or needed one before, despite having a license. Bryce always used whatever cars the CIA left for him or he rented. Neal used taxis to get around, collecting gossip as he went.

Waiting for Peter to arrive so they could travel the same path they did every weekday sometimes itched at Neal. He wanted to go somewhere else. He didn't want to have to sit in the FBI office doing whatever jobs they could toss his way.

It was a safe adult life, when he wanted out of the field but, it was also dull.

Every morning, Neal reminded himself that this was what he wanted. No dangerous missions, no gun handling, no spy organisations aiming for his head, and no wondering if he could trust the people he was working with.

The wanderlust and urge to go out and destroy a couple of bad guys would go away. Neal just had to stick with it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Masks**

Neal looked around the shop. Masks were hanging on the wall. They were from all around the world and were for all kinds of things. Some were pretty and designed for parties and celebrations however, some were the creepy kind of masks. Ones which were designed to ward of sickness and evil spirits.

Peter looked just a disturbed as Neal was.

"Are you certain Mozzie said here?" he asked.

Neal nodded. He was mentally making a note to talk to Mozzie about the places he chose for meetings. This was by far one of the stranger ones. And Neal had been to some strange places.

"Neal, Suit!" Mozzie called out. He popped up from behind the counter, wearing a creepy carved wooden mask. It caused Peter to jump and Neal to reach for the nearest thing he could use a weapon. Mozzie pulled the mask off and raised his eyebrows at Neal.

Neal looked to the small, but heavy, metal figure he had grabbed. He wouldn't have hurt Mozzie with it... much. Neal Caffrey was supposed to be non-violent.

Neal placed the weapon down, feeling a little embarrassed about his slip up.

"What are we doing here, Mozzie?" Peter questioned, looking around. He looked just as embarrassed as Neal but his embarrassment was probably from being scared by Mozzie. "And what does this have to do with those forged checks which are popping up?" It had been frustrating the FBI, and Neal, for the last week. Checks were difficult to forge but Neal had already examined them and concluded that they weren't check washing them. No chemicals had been used to erase ink.

"Huh?" Mozzie gave Peter a confused look. "I'm just watching over the place for an acquaintance. It has nothing to do with your 'case'."

"Then why are we meeting?" Peter huffed.

"Because, I might have a clue." Mozzie grinned. "I think I know who's doing it, although I can't tell you how."

"Why not?"

"I don't actually know how he's doing it. But I believe the guy you're looking for is Zsolt Vastag."

"And how do you know that?" Peter asked with his hands on his hips.

Mozzie gave Peter a disappointed look. "He came into New York around the same time as the checks. Beyond that, I have whispers."

Peter huffed. "'Whispers' aren't good enough. We've been through this."

"You shouldn't discredit whispers, Suit," Mozzie said. "They make good starting points and come in handy in my line and Neal's old line of work."

Neal wondered if Mozzie meant the criminal line or the CIA line. Either way, Mozzie was right and Peter knew it. It was a good starting point and Peter wasn't fooling either of them. Neal knew that they would be looking into Zsolt Vastag once they got back to the office.

Before they left, Neal told Peter that he would be out in a few moments. He pulled Mozzie behind a couple of shelves where they couldn't be overheard easily.

"This guy you've found. Where are these 'whispers' coming from?"

"Neal," Mozzie said in a disapproving tone.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Bryce Larkin was dead, by Neal's request. However, that didn't mean Mozzie could shove his targets off on the FBI. "But, you're not sending Peter after some dangerous spy, are you?"

"He's the FBI's problem," Mozzie answered. It was enough for Neal. They weren't going after some dangerous spy.

* * *

**Dogs**

Mozzie picked a grand time to visit Beckman. He knew it was a risk. He could easily get caught up in what was about to happen. However, he couldn't ignore the intel which he had received.

There was a faction of the CIA out to arrest Beckman. It was in no way legal, but most of the CIA work could fall under that umbrella and this faction had worked hard to make this seem legal. He found her easily. He didn't bother to knock.

Beckman gasped, strands of hair falling from her bun as she pulled out file after file.

"Agent Winters!" she growled. "Close the door and block it."

"Then how will I get out?" he questioned. In his head, he was doing a countdown of how long he had before he had to leave.

Beckman didn't appreciate his bluntness. "If you have come to arrest me, then do it. If not, then leave."

Mozzie sighed. Spies. They certainly saw things in black and white. At least Neal had some flexibility.

"I came to warn you. They're shutting the program down."

"I already learnt that. If you have nothing else to add-"

"Chuck Bartowski escaped custody."

Beckman paused for a moment. Her lips twitched into a momentary smile.

Twenty seconds left.

"Good luck, General," Mozzie said before leaving. If Chuck didn't manage to solve this, he was going to. Somehow. He might have to raise the dead for it and Neal wouldn't be happy about it but it was Chuck.

He could hear footsteps rushing down the hall. Mozzie ducked into the nearest room, glad they weren't searching for him. Determined banging rang out from the direction he had just come from.

"Open the door right now!"

Getting out of there wasn't easy. Even with all the focus on Beckman and those involved in the Intersect project, there was a suspicious air to the area. Mozzie was questioned a few times on what he was doing and he had a different story each time.

He made it out and quickly made his way back to New York.

If he ever told this story, he was going to add more dogs chasing him and maybe having to climb a fence or two.

* * *

Neal flinched as his screen lit up. The computer had been asleep, idle while he completed paperwork. Two words popped up on the screen, causing his blood to run cold.

'Hello, Neal.'

Neal looked around and was glad to see that no one seemed to notice. He was glad that his computer screen faced away from the office. He tapped at a few keys but nothing happened.

He frowned. This was Orion, he was sure of it. However, it wasn't like Orion to block his keyboard. How was he supposed to communicate with him?

"You better not be watching me through some camera," he grumbled under his breath and with the slightly crazy thought that maybe Orion could hear him.

'If you're reading this, then I'm dead.'

Neal stared. He read the words again.

_'I'm dead.'_

Nope. Had to be a lie. Had to be. This was Orion. He had 'died' a number of times. Probably even more than Neal himself had.

'You're probably thinking that this is some kind of trick. After all, we've both been guilty of it.' The words flickered mockingly on the screen. It was just like Orion to predict his reactions to this kind of news.

'This message wouldn't have been sent if I hadn't died. Our mutual friend should be able to get more information however, this is for you.'

Images flashed on the screen and Neal flinched back. His chair clattered to the ground, attracting the attention of the agents around him.

Neal blinked rapidly, images he couldn't understand flickering at the edge of his vision. Orion had blasted him with Intersect technology. But why? It wasn't a full Intersect, just a few files.

"Neal?" Peter had either been watching or someone had alerted him to Neal's strange behaviour. He was standing next to him, looking from the black computer screen to Neal's tense stance. "You okay?"

Neal forced his head down and up in a nod. He took a few breaths. He had slipped; his awareness of his surroundings having been shattered momentarily.

Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. It was surprising that the motion was grounding and not the least bit threatening. Neal normally didn't like it when people touched him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two assignments due tomorrow so this chapter might not be up to my usual quality.

**Verify**

Mozzie sat across from Neal. His expression was tense around the eyes and jaw, a sign of the inner turmoil going through him.

"And you checked?"

Neal just managed to resist rolling his eyes. "If I try, they might realise I'm still alive. I need you to do it."

Mozzie thought about it for a few moments before nodding. "Orion's dead..."

Neal's heart felt heavy. He was certain Mozzie felt worse. The little guy had really bonded with Orion.

Bartowskis. They had a way of getting under your skin.

There were a few moments silence and a drink in solidarity because Mozzie insisted. This was a death and he insisted they properly drink to their old friend.

"Okay," he said as they put their glasses down. "Let's talk about whatever was in the end of the message."

"It was some kind of intersect," Neal responded in a musing tone. He couldn't figure out what kind though. He didn't seem to be flashing but, he didn't think it removed the intersect already in his head either.

"A software update?" Mozzie questioned.

Neal shrugged. "Still no flashes, Moz."

"Probably a good thing," Mozzie decided with a nod. He still remembered when Neal's intersect started messing up. It was not something he would wish on Neal again. "Let me know if that changes."

"Fine. But I can't let you know if you go off-grid."

Mozzie's eyes narrowed. It sounded a little like Neal was creating an excuse already, just in case he did flash.

* * *

**Concern**

When El handed Peter the poem, he decided to at least see what Mozzie wanted. It didn't matter that his decision was assisted by his wife's insistence that it was probably important.

Mozzie thought some guy watching him in the park was important. Although, it wasn't usually something he called Peter in for with cryptic poems. Cryptic poems which sent him to some oyster bar.

At least Mozzie was waiting outside so Peter didn't have to worry about going in and requesting a place when he wasn't going to eat there.

"Alright. What is it?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips. He stood there for a few moments, noticing how jittery Mozzie was. A bit like a cornered rat.

"It's Neal."

Peter groaned. Of course. "What about Neal?"

"Something's happened. A good friend has... passed." Peter's eyes widened. He had no idea who this could have been but, Neal took death hard. And a good friend? Mozzie's next words echoed his feelings well. "I'm worried about Neal. Could you let me know if he does anything strange over the next few days? Like, spacing out or sudden bursts of knowledge?"

"Sudden bursts of knowledge is Neal normally," Peter pointed out. "And he spaces out if anyone even mentions Kate."

Mozzie was silent for a moment at the mention of the woman who had been blown up. Neither of them felt her loss keenly; their only grief being how her death affected Neal.

"This'll be different," Mozzie explained. "You'll know it if you see it. He'll also avoid telling you why he knows what he knows."

Peter sighed but told Mozzie he would watch Neal. He didn't really understand what was going on, but this forewarning about Neal meant he at least knew what to look for. Neal working on his own was a dangerous thing and Peter was still worried the kid would get himself killed by crossing the wrong people.

* * *

**Suspicious**

Diana was the first to notice. Neal was spacing out a little as he looked through the files. He would look at a file for a few moments, blink rapidly and then put it down. He did this a number of times before crossing his arms and not touching another file.

He just sat their, leaning back in the chair with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's going on?" she asked him.

"Nothing really," Neal responded.

The disbelief showed on her face. "Come on, Caffrey. What's going on?"

Neal grinned at her. The shiny grin used whenever he was trying to hide something. "Suspicious much? Nothing's going on."

"Then you won't mind opening these files and getting to work?" Diana asked.

Neal kept his grin as he reached out and grabbed one of the files. With purposeful movements, he flicked the file open and looked at it.

Diana stood there watching a few more moments before Neal's eyes flicked up to hers. A moment later, he slid off the chair.

"Are you okay?" Jones called.

The agent sitting closest to Neal's desk stood up. "Caffrey? You alright?"

"Neal?" Diana gasped.

"I'm fine, thanks," Neal responded, pulling himself back up into his chair. His hand was touching his head, although he hadn't bumped it.

* * *

**Observe**

Peter watched Neal for anything out of the ordinary. He noticed that Neal started carrying a notebook around. It was curious.

"What's in there?" he asked the conman.

Neal glanced at the notebook and grinned. "What would you do if I said plans for future heists?"

"I'd question your sanity, because there's no way you'd write anything incriminating like that down," Peter pointed out.

"True," Neal agreed with a shrug. After a moment where Peter didn't seem to be happy with that response. "It's really nothing."

"Are you certain? Neal, if you think I should know at all-"

"Peter," Neal huffed with a good-nature roll of his eyes. "It's personal. Nothing criminal. I promise."

Peter wasn't so convinced. Neal was scribbling in the notebook often and there were a couple of agents he seemed cooler around, like he was only be polite to be polite. Everyone could see it.

"What is wrong with Agent Couman?" Peter asked, when Neal coolly greeted the man in the morning and only because the agent in question had greeted Neal first.

Neal didn't want to answer that. He looked away.

"It's nothing Peter."

"Then you should be nicer to him. And I can't believe I'm saying this to a conman. If you can't con an FBI agent into believing you don't mind his presence, I don't know how you managed to do half the things we suspect of you."

Neal grinned at him. "Maybe I want him to know that I don't trust him."

That was an odd answer. Peter couldn't think of a reason why. There had been agents in the past Neal hadn't been good with; like Ruiz and Rice. Ruiz mostly because he didn't want to associate with Neal Caffrey.

Rice was an odd one. She had lost Neal's faith.

Had Agent Couman done something to lose Neal's faith? Peter made a mental note of it. He would have to ask the Agent himself or even Mozzie. He hoped Neal had spoken to Mozzie.


	9. Chapter 9

**Busted**

Mozzie was sitting at the table when Neal returned to June's. He had his computer in front of him and was staring at Neal expectantly.

He had known Neal was coming. Neal's expression fell, turning into something a little more fitting of Bryce.

Oddly, enough, this caused the corner of Mozzie's mouth to twitch. As if Bryce was more acceptable in this moment than Neal. That was worrying.

"So, Neal, what's up with Agent Couman?"

He shifted his surprise that Mozzie knew into surprise that Mozzie was asking about some random agent.

"What are you talking about?" Mozzie sighed and Neal knew he had seen through the facade. "I don't get why you're asking about him. I don't work with him much."

"Don't play dumb, Neal. You're spacing out at work and, while I don't subscribe to the weekday 9-5 work system, it's handy for spotting changes, like what's going on with you."

"With me? Nothing. Maybe I'm just a little off since a friend died."

Mozzie stared at him. He turned the screen a little so that Neal's eyes were attracted to it. A cheap psychological trick; eyes are attracted to movement.

Neal's brain pulsed and his vision flicked. He tried not to let it show but Mozzie pulled him forward and he stumbled.

He never stumbled. Unless he was thrown off balance by something.

"A flash?" Mozzie questioned. "What did you see?"

Neal opened his mouth to answer automatically and then snapped it shut when he realised what he was doing. It hurt to hold the information back. He hadn't known that the intersect came with an impulse to say the information which was flashed on until the first few times he flashed. Luckily he had been in the apartment and no one had been around. Neal had realised what was happening moments after spilling the first bit of information from his flash, something about a politician in New York and the security of his apartment. However, knowing didn't lesson the churning fear in his stomach over the loss of control over his body.

"Don't ask that, Moz," Neal said instead. "It's old ghosts."

"Neal," Mozzie said with a frown. "Do you remember what happened last time you had an intersect? What's to say that won't happen again? There's no Orion to help you."

"I know. But Neal doesn't end up with computers in his head." That was a Bryce thing.

"What did you flash on?" Mozzie asked again, in a serious tone. Asking twice meant that he wouldn't give up until he got an answer.

Neal glanced over at his photo on the computer.

"Neal Caffrey," he responded. In fact, he knew more about what the FBI knew about him than he was comfortable with. Plus, the computer in his head was clever enough to put pieces together and ended up shoving the information on a case he hadn't been connected to officially, but had been a part of, into his head.

"You flashed on FBI files?" Mozzie questioned.

Neal blinked and nodded. The emphasis on FBI was interesting. "Considering there's been nothing to do but files and cases, it's all I've seen lately."

"That case-"

Neal started putting the pieces together, "-was one of the cold cases I saw on Peter's office. Yesterday, actually."

"You're flashing on FBI information," Mozzie mused, "because the Intersect is accumulating information from your surroundings? Or did Orion send you FBI files?"

* * *

**Tail**

Despite his interest in exactly how Neal's intersect worked, Mozzie did not forget about Agent Couman. He had forced the information from Neal with wine and discussion. Neal had flashed on Agent Couman's voice. He had been recorded by the CIA having a conversation with a suspect in arms dealing. And then, from the FBI, the Intersect had been able to pick up one of Neal's cases which was connected to Agent Couman.

"The annoying part is, the evidence I have isn't enough to get anything from him," Neal huffed. "If it wasn't for the computer in my head, this would all just be coincidence." Plus, they wouldn't know about the recording.

"I'll look into it," Mozzie promised.

Neal just managed to hold back on commenting that he had been afraid of that.

As expected, a week later, Agent Couman had OPR investigating him and had been suspended. Even though Fowler was on the run and OPR was supposed to have nothing to do with him, the White Collar agents were still suspicious.

"Let them do their job," Peter said to the group with a pointed look at Neal.

Neal confronted Mozzie that evening.

"What did you do?"

"I tailed the man, Neal. Investigation 101. It was almost too easy." Neal groaned. Mozzie was not human. 'Too easy' for him probably meant a 24 hours, round-the-clock watch. As far as Neal knew, Mozzie didn't have a team to help him with that. "I didn't watch him while he was at the FBI," Mozzie informed him, perhaps reading his look of disbelief. "And if you know where to look, people have all kinds of information about dirty agents."

"Did you tap his phone?" Neal questioned.

Mozzie gave him a horrified look. "Of course not! I bugged his house. I have class, Neal." Under his breath, he muttered, "'tapped his phone', really, you've been spending too much time with the FBI, stuck in the past..."

"Sorry, Moz," Neal said. He wasn't, he just wanted Mozzie to stop talking about it.

* * *

**Plot (No prompt word)**

OPR in the office set everyone on high alert. However, Peter seemed calm about it. Hughes confronted him on it the morning after the OPR agents turned up.

Hughes could see that Peter didn't mind these agents as much as the rest of his team, except maybe Neal. He called his agent out on it.

"Neal has been acting strange around Agent Couman," Peter confirmed. "It makes me wonder if Couman is as trustworthy as we think."

"Caffrey is not a judge of FBI character."

"His reactions to Couman are out-of-character for Caffrey. There's something going on there."

"Do you think it has anything to do with Kate and the Fowler situation?"

"No. If it did, he would be agitated with OPR. Instead, he seems almost... hopeful. He wants them out quick."

"With the back of Agent Couman, I assume," Hughes sighed. "What's going on with Caffrey?"

"I don't know. He's being secretive about it. His little friend knows something."

Hughes nodded his understanding but didn't look happy about it.

"Just make sure it isn't something that'll come back to bite us. And don't let me hear about you punching any of these OPR agents, Peter."

* * *

Neal's head was spinning. He hadn't flashed in a few hours so why was it so difficult to focus?

"Neal!"

He jumped at the sound of Jones' voice, pixels flashing in his vision and head pounding.

Jones' voice turned soft, "Neal?"

"I'm okay," Neal said with a grin that fooled no one. He looked around, only just noticing everyone sitting around the table in the conference room.

He internally cursed. He didn't remember how he got here or why he was here.

"Neal, are you sick?" Peter asked, hovering in his vision with a stern face. Peter didn't like it when people came into the office sick. He lost agents when bugs spread.

"I'm fine," Neal responded. The pixels were gone and his head wasn't swimming as much now. He could deal with a little headache.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Go home, Caffrey."

Neal couldn't even argue. He couldn't think of an argument to convince Peter that he was fine. He managed to walk straight until he reached a taxi outside. He stumbled inside.

"You're really out of it," Mozzie commented from the front seat, causing Neal to jump for the second time that day.

"Moz? That you?" And that was the worst part, Neal couldn't be sure. He had been woken by his friends' voices at night and their visages flickering in his vision. Along with images of other things he had flashed on.

Mozzie gave him a worried look. "Of course it's me. Neal? What's going on?"

"Don't feel right," Neal sighed, slumping over.

"Neal! Don't you dare!" Mozzie yelled at him. Neal heard the horn blare as Mozzie cursed. "Don't do this to me again! Neal!"

Neal's head was pounding and his eyelids were too heavy to hold open.


	10. Chapter 10

**Friends**

Mozzie keenly felt the loss of his friend. Stephen Bartowski had been unlike anyone else. His mind worked in beautiful ways and Mozzie missed conversing with him. Most of all, Mozzie missed him because Stephen always had a plan.

From the back of the cab, Neal was still. Neal was still and Mozzie had no idea what to do with a brain that was overheating like a computer. He was not Stephen.

Mozzie pulled up outside June's with the intention of getting the staff to help him get Neal out. Trying to keep his panic down, he walked into the large building.

"Mozzie," June greeted him with a smile. It quickly fell as she took in his expression. "What's going on?"

"I need some help getting Neal out of the cab," Mozzie explained.

"Neal? Has something happened?" June was worried. Mozzie was glad he couldn't tell her the whole story. It would only worry her more.

"He's unconscious," he said. "And I can't lug him up all the stairs."

"Of course not. I'll get someone out here to do it," June said, summoning a servant. "It's a shame. Neal received a package today."

June pulled out a small, brown, wrapped parcel. It was a cube and fit snugly in her hand. Mozzie took it and examined it.

No sender listed. The name Neal had been typed. But, there was a symbol on it that Mozzie would recognise anywhere. It was the symbol for the Intersect, a rectangle with lines coming off it.

Federal crime or not, Mozzie wasn't going to leave this mail unopened. He was certain Neal wouldn't mind.

"Stephen, you brilliant mastermind," Mozzie praised when he opened the box contained within the paper.

"A watch?" June didn't understand. Mozzie confirmed that, yes, it was a watch and ran to Neal. The male servant had placed Neal on his bed and was just leaving as Mozzie burst in.

The moment the silver watch was snapped onto Neal's wrist, the conman stirred.

"Moz?" he questioned, eyes opening a crack.

"How do you feel?" Mozzie asked with a wide grin. A Governor! The watch that regulated the Intersect. If Neal hadn't needed it, Mozzie would have pulled the thing apart to see what made it tick.

Neal seemed to consider the question, eyes darting to the new object on his wrist. It would retail at a few thousand dollars but he knew it was worth much more than that.

"Like someone took a two-sizes-too-small and heavy helmet off my head," he answered. "Feels better. I can't remember ever feeling this light, I guess blocking off the Intersect isn't the same as removing it after all." Neal sighed contently.

Mozzie could have told him that. Neal had been carrying a blocked off Intersect the whole time with the FBI. However, Orion must have thought that Neal would need his Intersect and put in measures to remove the block and gift Neal a governor in the event of his death.

Mozzie hoped that Neal wouldn't ever need it.

* * *

**Acceptance**

"Neal, are you wearing a Rolex?" Peter questioned suspiciously the next day. Neal grinned at him. He hadn't expected Peter to know what kind of watch it was. "Neal. Where did the watch come from?"

"It was a gift," Neal said. Honestly, he still couldn't believe Orion had gifted him with it. Especially after his death.

Peter took in the odd, almost happy grin on Neal's face, the lightness of his eyes and the renewed energy. He hadn't even noticed Neal had been wane, distracted and disinterested until this energetic and well-rested version had hopped into his car. What kind of handler was he, that he didn't even notice when his CI was a little off?

Peter sighed and focused on the matter at hand, the new, expensive, watch. "A gift?"

"An old friend of mine and Mozzie's sent it," Neal said fondly. He fiddled with the watch as he spoke, twisting the watch face this way and that.

"Really? And what does this 'old friend' do?"

"He worked with computers," Neal responded.

Peter had no idea who this mystery person could be but he decided to drop the issue. Apparently, this energised Neal was better at running circles around him. Peter would have to slowly and cleverly get answers of his CI.

* * *

Neal stared at Jones. Jones grinned at him.

"It's not a joke," Jones said. Neal turned to Peter.

"This is the FBI, Neal. We're not going to joke about case assignments."

Neal sighed. A new case and Neal wasn't happy with his role in the take-down plan.

"There's no way I can turn Jones into a passable forger in 48 hours. Why can't I go undercover again?"

"We're the agents, Neal," Peter responded. Not that it had mattered before. Neal had the most skill and experience.

Truthfully, Peter didn't want to send Neal out into the field right now. There was Mozzie's hint that something almost Kate-death-level was happening in Neal's life and Peter hadn't even noticed how lethargic Neal had been recently. There was no telling how long this burst of energy would last. So, Neal wasn't going into the field on this case.

"Jones needs the experience," Diana said with a grin at Jones. "Time to leave the van."

"I happen to like the van," Jones said.

Diana raised her eyebrows at Neal and he decided to play along. He gasped and covered his heart. "How can you say that?"

"I say we need to get him out of the van," Diana said to him.

"Alright, fine. I'll let Jones go undercover this time," Neal said. He felt on the top of his game right now and he knew what Diana was doing. However, she had a point. Jones needed a little time in the field. "Come on, Jones. Time to learn how to fake being a forger."

"I can't learn to be a forger?" Jones questioned.

Neal grinned. "I'm not revealing my techniques and secrets to the FBI, Agent Jones."

* * *

The Suit said it, El and Neal confirmed it; Neal was not taking an active role in the latest case. Mozzie could only hope that it would stay that way while he took a trip to DC for a day trip. Neal had been unintentionally making it difficult for him to keep an eye on the CIA side of things. Mozzie didn't think he could leave his friend for even a day without something crazy happening. Plus, Neal having an intersect was making him a little more paranoid than usual.

He compiled information from Neal's flashes, at least, the ones Neal told him about. However, wasn't sure what he was going to do with it. He could give the information to the General but she might ask questions he couldn't answer.

Mozzie entered the building with his ID around his neck and his arms filled with files. However, his ID wasn't his real one but a forgery he had created. Why would he wear his real one around his neck where it could be snipped off? Spies were just as sneaky as thieves.

Once again, no one tried to stop him for more than a momentary glance at his ID. Mozzie shuffled on his feet, heft his arms and generally looked like a man late for some important date. Or meeting. Or something. Someone who didn't have time to stop and chat.

General Beckman cocked a single eyebrow as she looked up to see him standing across the desk.

"Agent Winters. It's been a while."

"It has. Things have been busy. Any news?"

"Orion's dead." Taking in his unchanging expression, she sighed. "Which you already knew."

"Of course. I want to know how."

"Daniel Shaw killed him. Shaw betrayed the CIA and was serving his own agenda. We're lucky that Chuck managed to stop him."

"At what price though?" Mozzie questioned rhetorically. They both knew the price. Mozzie didn't think it was a fair one.

"You did try to warn me," Beckman reminded him. That explained why she wasn't angry with him for going off-grid the past few weeks. She was probably glad of it since he had been proven right and had a reason to be mad with her since she hadn't listened.

"What's Team Bartowski up to now?" Mozzie asked.

Beckman hesitated and Mozzie approved. She still didn't know of the reason for his interest. Although, he hoped he had proved that his interest was in the best interests of the team rather than the destruction of the team.

"Chuck wants to take on Volkoff."

"Volkoff, Volkoff Industries? That Volkoff?" Mozzie knew that Stephen had been looking into Volkoff before his death. However, his friend hadn't given him details on what that entailed.

"Yes. That Volkoff. Think he can do it?"

Mozzie thought about it. Volkoff was powerful and had risen from nothing to gain that powerful. It seemed crazy that he might be brought down by a small three-person team.

"Four person," Beckman informed him.

"Four?"

"One of Chuck's associates from the Buy More joined the team."

Well, that was interesting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: So this chapter might be a little rushed, sorry. I wasn't feeling well the past few days due to sinus problems (the changing seasons - spring is here in Australia).

 

**So, Mozzie knew about the Governor?**

Mozzie was now officially 'Agent Winters'. He was enjoying the challenge of being CIA without losing himself to the mechanisms of the man. He was more than the job and wouldn't let it overtake his life.

It frustrated his superiors at first but they got used to it. Mozzie was a man of his own time and means. It made him a handy ally for a certain electrical engineer.

Stephen Bartowski had been hanging out in Mozzie's loft, fondly known as Friday, and was currently snoozing away in a hammock.

Friday had hammocks instead of beds.

There was a reason the CIA put up with Mozzie's attitude. He was a good spy. A clever spy. It didn't take much for him to put the pieces together.

For example; Stephen was wearing a new watch. A nice watch. It was not the kind of watch Mozzie's friend would normally wear. But watches could be like tiny computers and Mozzie knew what his friend could do with a computer.

When he confronted Stephen with that over breakfast, at five pm because they both currently lived nights, Stephen laughed.

"You're being too suspicious, my friend," Stephen commented.

Mozzie was not convinced. He knew there was something going on. He let his disbelief show on his face.

"Then you won't mind if I take it? Can't have anyone who might track it coming here."

"Mozzie!" Stephen was horrified. His hand clamped over the watch on his wrist as if to protect it from the little guy. "My watch isn't a tracker!"

"How am I meant to know that? There's something to your watch-"

Stephen sighed, "it's an invention of mine." Mozzie raised an eyebrow, wanting to know more. Stephen gave him a look that said he was a bully. "It's for the Intersect."

Mozzie was not surprised to learn that Stephen had a computer in his head like the one he had locked away in Neal's; who was currently overseas on a mission as Bryce. "Why do you need a watch for the computer in your head?"

"Because flashing damages the brain. It causes overheating with extended use."

It took Mozzie a few moments to process the implications of this. "You're telling me that you willingly downloaded something into your brain which causes it to fry?"

"No!" Stephen responded quickly. "That's what the governor is for, see? So I don't fry." Then, in a mutter, he added, "I didn't know about the frying thing when he first downloaded it."

"What about Neal?" Mozzie asked because he would put Neal before Stephen, always. Neal was his brother in all but blood and Mozzie knew Stephen understood that.

"Neal should be fine. He can't flash so there's no need for him to have a governor."

Mozzie was not convinced. He was an 'always be prepared' kind of guy. So they discussed the governor a little more and a few other of Stephen's inventions.

* * *

**Protect**

At least Orion wasn't going to come after him. Mozzie thought for the fourth time as he paced the floor of Neal's apartment. Orion would not have been happy if he was around to learn that Mozzie didn't intervene when he knew Chuck was in danger. Except, Mozzie wasn't Bryce and didn't mind leaving Chuck to his own devices. He had his hands full with other things. Now, if only he could stop thinking about it.

Neal sighed and placed his paint palette down on the stool next to him. It was almost time to get a new one as colour was spread, blended and dotted on this one like a modern masterpiece on wood.

"Okay, I can hear the gears turning from here. What's going on, Mozzie?" Neal asked.

Mozzie shook his head. "You don't want to hear this."

"Moz. You're my friend. Of course I want to hear about what's bothering you." Neal gave him the soulful eyes. He was worried. Mozzie didn't keep worries from him, preferring to air them as soon as possible in order to have the 'I told you so' moment later on.

"It's about the dead." Their code for a dead alias. There was only one dead alias that could cause Mozzie so much worry. Because, while he was dead for Neal, Mozzie still had one foot in Bryce's world.

Neal was silent as he weighed up Mozzie's worry and his own desire to not bring Bryce up ever again. He sighed.

"Let's hear it."

"Chuck's taking on Volkoff!" Mozzie burst out.

"...what?" Neal was horrified. He had heard about Volkoff and both he and Mozzie knew about what had happened with Agent Frost. How could they not with how Stephen had dropped in every few weeks? The whereabouts of his wife had come up a few times. "He's going to get himself killed."

Mozzie nodded solemnly.

"That's a really bad idea." Neal looked moments away from cracking his anklet and catching the next flight to Burbank.

"Can't be any worse than what happened with Shaw," Mozzie mused, realising a moment too late that he never really went into what happened with Shaw and the circumstances of Orion's death.

Neal demanded to know. Mozzie eventually gave in.

"You think you can get to Burbank?" Neal questioned. "Offer your services to Chuck's team?"

"No," Mozzie said. There was no way he was going to leave Neal in New York without him. Mozzie had confirmed that Kate had talked to Fowler right before the explosion which killed her. Plus, Neal needed him to help decode the music box's music code.

 

Neal did something stupid. Mozzie had expected it but he had expected 'Neal stupid'; getting the attraction of the wrong person or conning his way back into jail, not 'Bryce stupid'; stealing a gun to go after a bad guy.

The CIA wouldn't protect a dead agent gone rogue. Mozzie wouldn't be able to protect Bryce if he had been stupid enough to get caught.

Mozzie could only count his blessings, even if they did come in the form of suits. The Suit had just managed to get Neal calmed down enough to be placed under house arrest, enforced by the Lady Suit.

Of course, Mozzie had heard all of this second hand, from Mrs Suit, after waking up from a coma. He had been shot while everything went down.

"Did you get him?" he asked Neal, after establishing whether he was in the system or not. Mozzie didn't want the CIA banging down the door in order to find out why he had been shot.

"Not yet," Neal admitted in a tired tone. There was more to the story there but Mozzie knew he could get it out of Mrs. Suit.

"So, what were you thinking, Neal?" Mozzie demanded to know. "Because it certainly didn't look like Bryce is dead."

Neal flinched at the name. "…I know. I just don't know. It seemed much easier when I had my own badge, even if the odds of having to kill and be killed are much higher. Peter's been suspended and I know Bryce would have been able to wave his badge and get the decision reversed or call in a couple of favours or even bring Peter over to the 'dark side'."

"Nope. The Suit would not like the CIA. There's a competitive air to the CIA."

"What about us, Moz? We're not competitive."

"We were cons before spies, _non frère_."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Okay, so the second half of this chapter was not planned. I just kind of ran with it. I think we might be seeing the beginnings of a new intersect team...

 

**Evade**

Neal grabbed at his wrist, pulling his watch in closer to his body. Little often escaped his notice, however, this appeared to be one of those things.

"Uh... Peter, I know that this isn't normally an issue but I kind of need this watch."

Peter gave him a look. It was a mix of disbelief and want of an explanation. Which would be fine, except Neal had no way of explaining that he needed the watch to keep his brain cool while it operated the invading computer.

"It was a gift."

Peter smiled at that and Neal felt relief, which lasted until Peter spoke.

"I understand. Lots of guys here have watches that are important to them."

"Yeah. El tried that one," Neal said, remembering that well-meant but ill-fitting gift. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation as going and he didn't like it.

"That's right. So, we do take good care of the watches while our men go undercover."

"Yeah but-"

Jones decided to add his two cents. "Neal, you really don't want to be wearing that watch if they order you to take it off."

"Or they break it," Diana said. "Criminals are fond of breaking watches."

"That's because they're good places to hide bugs."

"Quit it you two," Peter ordered. "Neal, you have to wear our watch."

Neal sighed and unclipped his Governor. The moment he pulled it off, he was hit with a wave of lethargy and a headache from the feeling of having a heavy object rest in his head.

"Neal?" Peter asked, noticing the change in his demeanour. It was more than just pouting because they changed his watch.

"I'm fine." Definitely more than just pouting. Neal wasn't whining about how they took the watch. He was hiding something.

Neal's head was pounding like a vicious baker kneading dough. He had the feeling that one flash might be enough to take him out. He tried not to let any of it show as he climbed out of the van and walked inside the hotel across the street for his meeting.

 

His head was pounding. Lights and colours flashed across his vision like pixels on a broken monitor.

"You okay, kid?" The query crackled in his ears. Neal forced a grin to his face as he didn't recognise the voice. And it's tone certainly wasn't Peter, Mozzie or Chuck.

"Fine. My boss wants this deal and it don't matter if I'm sick." Neal couldn't remember anything about this situation though. What was he supposed to be doing? His head was swimming and his stomach rolled.

"What kind of taskmaster do you work for?" the same voice sounded horrified but also impressed. Probably in awe of whomever it was that could make this 'kid' work while sick.

"He didn't mention a boss before," another voice said. Smoother this time. A ringleader.

"Come on, Morandi. The kid's sick and scared. He probably didn't want to mention it before."

"No good enough. Who do you work for, kid? We don't need any unknown in our operation."

"I'm his boss."

Neal's vision flicked and he cried out as pain spiked in his head. What was Hughes doing here? His body pitched forward.

 

Neal came to a few moments later. Or so he assumed. His head was clear and, except for some aches from hitting the ground, he felt fine.

"Caffrey, what were you thinking?" Hughes growled in his ear.

Neal spotted the governor on his wrist.

"What are you doing here, Hughes?" Neal asked as he climbed to his feet. The FBI seemed to have swarmed the place, probably on Hughes' order. Morandi and his men were gone, probably in cuffs.

"Neal, are you okay?" Peter asked, instantly looking over from where he had been talking to Jones. "What were you doing, going undercover when you were sick?"

Neal averted his gaze. He didn't want to tell Peter that he hadn't been sick until moments before going undercover. "If Hughes hadn't been checking up on us-"

"Peter, calm the theatrics. We all know if I hadn't then you would have. As it is, we have the evidence we need and I'm going to take Caffrey back to the office."

"Shouldn't he go home?" Jones asked. "No offence, sir, but he's never fainted on case before."

"I'm sure he'll be fine once he's seated behind a desk," Hughes informed them. "Where I think he'll stay for a while."

Neal groaned. He had just gotten off paperwork-only duty and had been looking forward to going undercover for days.

"My conning skills are going to get rusty at this rate," he complained.

"Caffrey," Hughes said as a warning to be quiet. Even though it wasn't needed, Neal let Hughes help him to the car.

 

The first few moments of the drive were quiet.

"Tell me what you know," Hughes finally said.

"I'm sorry?"

"I've been suspicious for a while. Tell me, Caffrey, how much of this is a mission?"

"A what?"

Hughes gave him a look, flat and unamused.

"Whatever you're thinking isn't it. I'm Neal Caffrey."

"Uh-huh. And how do you know it's not what I'm thinking?" Neal winced. Would Mozzie kill him for this? They should have seen this coming. Neal knew that the FBI would give him a tracker watch for cases and Neal should have come up with a way around it before now. Hughes continued, "I doubt you just managed to accidentally end up with an Intersect. It's not something you can just steal."

"Didn't stop me from stealing it," he muttered. It just slipped out. Neal was going to blame it on his brain still rebooting after the crash earlier, even if that probably wasn't it.

There was silence in the car. Neal stared at Hughes, waiting for some kind of reaction.

"How much information do you have on me?" Hughes asked.

"Honestly?" Hughes nodded and Neal sighed. He guessed he did owe the older FBI agent the truth. He had helped Neal out. "Only your NSA identification." He had blacked out before anything else could be committed to retrievable memory. "You worked for the NSA?"

"It was a desk job," Hughes repeated in such an automatic tone that Neal had to believe it was more than that.

"Why haven't I flashed on you before?" Neal wondered.

"Sometimes, Caffrey, to get a job done we create an identity. We change what we can. Appearance, interests, personality, voice; the me who worked for the NSA and the me earlier must have overlapped in some way."

It had been the voice, Neal was certain of it. Hughes had probably been trying to trigger a flash in order to test whether Neal had an intersect. That or the governor watch had been a giveaway.

"That feels like a bug in the program."

"They're older files. I'm surprised they're in the Intersect at all."

Neal wondered if that was it. Older information that took longer to locate and connect up.

"Ugh," he groaned. "I hate this thing."

"I heard the CIA had figured out a way to remove it," Hughes commented as he pulled up into the underground carpark for the FBI building.

Neal remembered that. He had been around when Chuck had his removed. But, the technology wasn't easy to get one's hands on. Especially since an air strike had taken out the only version Orion had created, which he had used on his son.

"It was only used once and then destroyed. Besides, I can't go and ask the CIA for help," Neal sighed. Hughes gave him a look that said 'explain, Caffrey.' He had seen it enough to decipher it without Hughes having to speak. "The me who joined the CIA? That wasn't me. Like you said, we create an identity. One of my identities was recruited and then killed."

"There are other ways to get out of the CIA," Hughes pointed out in a surprised tone.

Neal chuckled at that. "Not for me."

 

Neal had to tell Mozzie that Hughes had figured him out. It was the perfect distract to how Neal had once again collapsed because of the intersect in his head.

The FBI was abuzz the next day as Mozzie walked into the office in his lawyer suit and tie with a briefcase. Mozzie walked right up to Hughes' office and went right in.

There was a collective holding of breath. When Mozzie didn't come out moments later, chased by an angry boss, everyone let the breath go.

"What's the little guy up to, Neal?" Diana asked in an interested but suspicious tone.

Neal had an idea. But he didn't think it would go over well if he said that Agent Winters was having a 'chat' with Agent Hughes.

"I think he's just worried about my rights after yesterday," he said instead. "He's probably making sure it doesn't happen again. Mozzie's overprotective like that."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I used a random address generator for this chapter (the site, if anyone is interested: <http://www.fakeaddressgenerator.com/Random_Address/fake_address_in_new_york>) . Any resemblance to a real address is unintentional. Also, I can't remember if Mozzie has a nickname for Hughes. No prompt words for this chapter; just an idea inspired by recent story events.

 

**Intersect Team**

* * *

Sitting at the table were Mozzie and Hughes. It was a sight Neal never expected to come home to. The files spread out across the table and the computer in front of Mozzie were enough clues to what was going on.

Agent Winters had a case or Hughes was looking for CIA input on a case.

"Don't you have a safe house where you two can do this?" Neal said to Mozzie in a disapproving tone.

"Not one with an intersect," Hughes pointed out.

"All due respect, the only working human intersect is in California."

Hughes fixed him with a stare that silently reminded Neal that he was not someone to mess with. "That the CIA knows of. I will respect that Neal Caffrey has nothing to do with the CIA as Agent Winters recounted to me. However, Neal Caffrey is a man who has stolen an intersect and I intend to make use of that as you are the a CI under my command."

"My deal is with Peter."

"Do I need to call him and clear this with him?" Hughes questioned.

"No, sir," Neal sighed. He made a mental note that he wouldn't speak to either of them next time and would just leave the apartment. "Do you want me to take a seat?"

Mozzie gave him an apologetic look as he took a seat. "The Super Suit is right, Neal. This would be helpful."

"Yeah, I understand," Neal sighed. "What's the case?"

* * *

The mission was to figure out where a package delivery was happening. They had a suspected smuggler, a date but no location.

Neal was glad to hear that he wouldn't have to go into the field at all. While he liked going undercover for the FBI, he didn't want to go undercover for a CIA mission. It could attract more dangerous criminals who wouldn't think twice about hurting El or Peter to get what they wanted.

Mozzie had done most of the footwork. Neal never asked what he did to get his hands on information like this but they had a record of most of their target's movements.

"This location seems likely," Mozzie said, pointing to an address. Neal and Hughes both leaned forward to have a look. "He makes a call there every few days."

"Seems like a red herring," Neal mused. He looked over the list of places he had been given.

He paused when he read '4897 Angus Road'. His head pulsed and his vision flickered as information opened up in his head.

"Here," Neal said, pointing to it and showing them. "Flashed on this address."

"Excellent," Hughes praised, taking down the address. "Agent Winters and I should be able to do something with this information. Unless you want to keep helping?"

"I'd like it if Neal went through the rest of the addresses," Mozzie said to Hughes before Neal could bow out of this mission. "To be thorough."

Neal stretched and sighed. His back was killing him and he was tired of looking at print but he would do this if Mozzie thought it was important. It was Mozzie.

"Fine."

"I'll bring you a good wine next time I visit," Mozzie informed him.

"That'd be new," Neal responded in a friendly manner. Usually, Mozzie took his wine.

* * *

With Hughes' backing, Neal's governor was fitted with a transmitter so he could wear it while undercover with the FBI.

* * *

Neal entered his apartment and Mozzie placed a finger to his lips. Sitting before him was his laptop.

"Yes, General. I know working with the FBI is unorthodox-"

"Everything you do is considered unorthodox, Agent Winters," an unimpressed voice crackled from the laptop's speakers. The sound of General Beckman's voice made Neal's heart hammer in his chest. Even though the computer wasn't facing him, he feared that she would figure out he was standing there.

"This is true. However, you've worked with Agent Hughes before. Although he refuses to tell me the specifics."

"That's above your security clearance, I'm afraid," General Beckman responded. Neal was interested to hear that it sounded like she meant it. "I suppose it would be acceptable if you and Agent Hughes worked together. Losing him to the FBI was disappointing and regaining his skill and experience in any way can be considered a win."

"That's right," Mozzie said. Mozzie held Neal's gaze for a moment as he said, "what's Team Bartowski up to?"

Mozzie had asked that for him. For Neal to get a live report of what his old college buddy was up to.

There was silence for a moment before Beckman said, "they're somewhere in the jungles of Southeast Asia."

Mozzie caught Neal's baffled look.

"Really?"

"I wasn't given the specifics since Agent Walker went off reservation but they're chasing after the Belgian."

"What happened to Volkoff?"

"Chuck's intersect was blocked," Beckman responded. "And he was benched until we could fix the problem. Like I said, they went off reservation for this one."

Neal didn't like the sound of that. One, it meant that Chuck was defenceless against the spies of the world. Two, it meant that he was currently the only functioning intersect. That was a dangerous position to be in, even if only a select few knew.

"Would you like me to go after them?" Mozzie questioned.

"No." Beckman responded quick enough and firm enough that it reassured Neal a little. She was protecting them from agents with unknown agendas.

"Would you like me to have a look at Chuck's data and see if I can't find a fix for his problem?"

This one took the General a little longer to form a response to.

"If they return and the intersect is still unable to flash, then I will consider bringing you in."

"Excellent. Contact me if you require anything," Mozzie finished, ending the call. He looked up at Neal. "What do you think?"

"I'm sure they're alright," Neal said with a confidence he didn't feel.

* * *

"Caffrey, my office, now," Hughes ordered.

Neal pulled himself out of Peter's office. Peter stopped him right outside.

Peter seemed worried. "Everything alright, Neal?"

"Yeah," Neal responded.

"You haven't done anything I should know about?" Peter asked. It was as polite but suspicious as Peter could go and Neal laughed.

"It's fine. Maybe Hughes just needs my assistance with his wedding anniversary."

Peter's eyes narrowed as he recalled the advice Neal had given him right back when they met. He increasingly sought out Neal's advice when it came to things like that because they were almost-friends. But, he bought the excuse. Neal was known around the office for being a romantic.

The moment the door to Hughes' office closed, Neal's heart rate increased slightly.

This was nerve-wracking. Almost as much as his first day at college, back when he expected the police to turn up at any moment and arrest him for using a fake name.

"Caffrey, take a seat," Hughes said. "How's Mozzie?"

"Moz is fine," Neal responded hesitantly. "You asking for a reason? Don't tell me you actually miss the NSA."

Hughes chuckled. "Maybe if you hadn't been lying to them from day one, you might have enjoyed your time with the CIA. The NSA and CIA aren't that bad. I admit, there's more corruption than I'd like and the work is dangerous but, the good agents are worth working with."

"Please don't tell me you think Moz is one of those 'good agents'."

Hughes did.


	14. Chapter 14

**Danger**

Neal didn't have to fake his smile as he shook the hand of the man suspected of running a boiler room, glad that he was finally going undercover again. The FBI had been trying to pin down anything about this guy beyond just reports from his victims. Mozzie was the one who found a connection and helped the FBI set up a meeting for Neal.

"Nice to have you on board, George," the man, Leonard Masson said with an equally wide grin.

"Great to be here," Neal responded. Here was a non-for-profit which didn't seem to exist anywhere but on paper. Getting in was the easy part. Now they just needed evidence of the Masson's activities and a list of those in the know. It would be simple enough to get, Neal just had to hang around for a while.

"This the new guy?" a voice questioned.

Neal's head snapped up, a buzz the only warning he got before his vision flickered. The man's face overlapped with his file in Neal's head. Luis Howard. CIA agent who was also Fulcrum. He had vanished before he could be arrested. With the uncovering of the Ring, the lower level Fulcrum agents had been put aside for the greater threat, allowing him to run without a manhunt despite being wanted.

Luis had the same training as Bryce. The same as Sarah. He could be deadly.

"You okay, new guy?" Luis questioned.

"Yeah, just a headache," Neal said, putting a slight nasal tone to his voice. It would help sell his story. "My sinuses have been playing up."

"You still able to work?" Luis asked.

"Not a problem," Neal responded with a thumbs up and a chill travelling down his back. He would have been happier without knowing about Luis' reputation for being suspicious, to the point that he had shot a young girl who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time the one time the CIA had managed to get close to him.

* * *

Neal didn't know what to do with this information. All going to plan, the FBI would swoop in and arrest everyone in a few days. He didn't need to tell Mozzie about Luis then, right?

"Neal," Peter stated as Neal stepped into the van once he was off duty at the boiler room.

"Peter," Neal responded in a questioning tone. He put on his best 'nothing to see here' grin. It did nothing.

Peter had been listening and knew when Neal lied.

"What do I need to know?"

"I don't understand."

"About that possible ring leader, Masson's boss or partner." There was another hint for Peter, Neal hadn't managed to get confirmation of their relationship.

"Nothing."

"Your reaction to him suggests otherwise."

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Peter, I assure you," Neal responded in a serious tone.

Peter frowned but didn't say another word as they left.

* * *

Hughes called Neal into his office before the end of the day. Neal sighed and went up, ignoring Jones' jokes about what he had done to get Hughes' attention. It was actually kind of nice to have co-workers who made jokes to him.

"Something wrong, sir?" Neal asked once he entered the office. Hughes frowned at Neal from where he was sitting and motioned for him to take a seat.

"Did you flash?" Hughes was never one to mince words, as Neal was learning quickly.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. We require as much information as possible to make informed decisions," Hughes lectured. "And Peter noticed your lie. He believes you might have a past with the other man."

"He's Luis Howard, ex-Fulcrum and ex-CIA."

Hughes sighed and rubbed his face with his hand in frustration. "Caffrey, that is exactly the kind of information I require. I need to know when I'm sending my agents up against someone who has a spy background."

Neal was silent. He had been a spy, he knew the value of information. Hughes dismissed him in order to get in contact with Mozzie.

* * *

As much as Agent Winters wanted to storm into the FBI and take over their case, he didn't want to deal with nosy FBI agents or cause people to question Neal. However, the alternative was leaving Neal to go undercover against someone who could make him. It wasn't like Luis Howard would care about Bryce being dead.

"I'm not leaving you to go in alone," Mozzie insisted as he handed Neal a comm. "This could be dangerous."

"As dangerous as that thing on your face?" Neal questioned with a raised eyebrow at the new moustache Mozzie was sporting. It was a fuzzy piece right across the top of his lip.

"I am aware of my facial faux pas," Mozzie responded. "We must all make sacrifices for our safety."

Neal didn't look pleased at the reminder that Mozzie was going undercover at the building as a cleaner.

* * *

Everything went as expected. Which is to say, it blew up in the FBI's and CIA's faces.

Neal was stuck in the middle of it. Stupid CIA reflexes. Should a mark figure out what's going on, Bryce was hardwired to run after them. As an ex-track star, he could run fast.

The moment the FBI rained down on the building, Luis bolted. Not even the newly waxed floor stopped him.

It was fun sliding after him though.

Neal followed him out the back door and tackled him to the ground. They rolled and Neal caught the sound of a gun clicking ready.

His hands shot up. It was about this time that he realised he had chased ex-CIA out of a building and away from assistance without any kind of weapon to protect himself.

"So, George. You with the Feds?" Luis questioned.

"I'm not with the guy who bolted and left everyone to be arrested," Neal responded angrily.

Luis took a few moments to process that. As he was the one with the gun, there wasn't much Neal could do but give him those moments. The delay could work in his favour.

"Wait!" Neal said the moment Luis' finger tightened on the trigger. "I'm sure we can work something out. I don't want to be arrested either!"

Luis hesitated and Neal was relieved to hear the click of a different gun behind Luis along with the glimpse of an ugly moustache. Agent Winters ordered Luis to give up, citing his name, his social security number, his mother's name and the name of his first pet and finishing with the sinister notion that little amount of information was all he needed to hijack Luis' life, including his bank account.

"You're not going anywhere. Give yourself up. Even if you run, I control the taxis. You used the number 7842 taxi to get here this morning."

Luis had no choice. He gave up.

* * *

Hughes was impressed. He brought good wine to Neal's apartment that evening once all the paperwork for Luis' transfer to CIA custody was done.

"Oh, yes. Very good, Super Suit," Mozzie hummed as he took the bottle and went to open it.

"You deserve it," Hughes informed him. "For your cooperation today."

"Ah, I see. Visiting agents get wine while helping conmen get nothing."

"We helped you find a missing women who you were basically stalking once," Hughes reminded him. "Get over it."

"I was not stalking her. My mind is just a wealth of information at times," Mozzie said.

Neal rolled his eyes, although Mozzie wasn't wrong.

Mozzie placed a glace in front of Hughes and one in front of Neal.

"Alright, the General has another mission for us," Mozzie said in a pleased tone.

Caught off guard, Neal wondered when they became a group. A group accepting CIA missions.

"Let's hear it," Hughes said, taking a sip of his wine. He made a face. "Beer would be better."

"Whatever plebeian," Mozzie responded instantly as he pulled up the mission details on his laptop.


	15. Chapter 15

The General was smart. She hadn't given Mozzie any clue to what the next mission for Chuck's team was. Mozzie's last check in found that Volkoff's organisation was being dismantled, the man was in custody and Chuck and Sarah were happily engaged and arranging their wedding.

She didn't let Mozzie know that in a few days, the newly reunited couple would have its first mission after Volkoff's arrest. The CIA had finally finished looking into Stephen Bartowski's case and an anomaly had been found.

There was a file Stephen Bartowski had triggered to send in the event of his death. No one in the CIA knew exactly where the file had ended up or who had it.

Except Agent Winters. But the General was keeping this from him.

* * *

**Hiding**

Hughes almost received the warning too late. The General informed him that a team of spies would be coming to New York and that their first stop would be his office. After all, he was also on the General's payroll and could kick up a fuss if she surprised him completely.

Hughes' first reaction was to scold Beckman for thinking that the FBI would just roll over and let her agents do whatever they wanted. He didn't follow that impulse, although he did end the call rather quickly.

Hughes' second reaction was to call Neal to Peter's office. Not his own as the General could call back at any time. He decided on Peter's.

This decision lead to Neal hiding under Peter's desk and Peter very confused.

"What's going on?" Peter questioned, looking from Neal to the group who just entered the White Collar office.

"Neal?" Hughes questioned, wondering if the ex-CIA agent would be willing to explain. Neal would be able to at least give him some kind of warning if these spies were a risk.

"I know them," Neal responded, "and they think I'm dead."

Peter sighed but didn't seem surprised. "Did you take anything from them?"

"No. Honestly. I have no idea why they're here."

"I might," Hughes said. "Or, at least, I'm going to find out."

"You do that. I'm just going to stay here," Neal said from his hiding place under Peter's desk.

"You can't stay under there," Peter said.

"Leave him," Hughes said. He didn't need a spy fight in the middle of his office.

Peter was confused and suspicious. He had noticed Neal and Hughes having quiet talks, often within the confines of Hughes' office. He hoped Neal wasn't trying to change or break their deal. No matter what Mozzie thought, Peter believed it was better for Neal to be working for the FBI instead of in prison or on the run.

Hughes walked out of Peter's office, the agent in question following him down the stairs.

"Hello," he greeted the spy team. "I'm Reese Hughes. I'm in charge here. Want to tell me what you're doing in my office?"

There were three of them that Hughes recognised from the files Neal had requested and Mozzie had showed him. Sarah was the blond woman who stepped up to talk to him, taking charge. Casey was the military man standing by Chuck Bartowski who was, worryingly, fiddling around with Neal's computer.

What was also worrying was that Hughes had no idea who the fourth member of their group was. He was a short man whose facial hair gave away his age as possibly being in his late 20s.

"We're here because of a file we believe was transferred onto one of the systems here," Sarah explained.

The unknown man grinned and said, "don't worry sir, we'll get it out and be on our way, no trouble!"

Hughes was not impressed. Beside him, Peter looked suspiciously at the group, not trusting them either. Hughes knew he had made a good choice in Agent Burke, the man didn't even know they were spies to know he couldn't trust them.

"This is it," Chuck said quietly to Sarah. "This is the computer." He immediately jumped on and loaded it up.

"Who sits there?" Sarah asked, pointing at the seat Chuck was currently occupying.

"Neal Caffrey," Jones informed them. "He's a CI and is on break."

Hughes took a moment to be impressed with his agents. They managed to follow the flow and keep these people from locating Neal.

"Why do you need to know?" he asked. "Get the file off and leave."

"We need to know if the idiot was stupid enough to open the file," Casey grumbled.

The air in the office grew cold. Neal was not stupid and every agent here knew it.

"Probably not," Peter said. "Neal barely uses that computer. He likes to trick others into doing his research for him. Like Agent Blake."

"I know I'm not meant to, but he makes such good arguments," Agent Blake said, slouching down in his chair as if that would hide him from sight. Diana went over to reassure him and probably make sure he knew to refuse Neal next time or else she'd deal with him.

The spies couldn't do much with the FBI resentful of their presence and Neal not in the room. They left.

Hughes wasn't foolish enough to believe this was over. They were looking for the Intersect Neal possessed, he was certain of it.

"I think we might need to put Caffrey on home arrest until they finish their investigation," Hughes said to Peter. This would keep Neal out of their way or at least avoid a blow up in the middle of the FBI.

* * *

**Comfort**

Neal was shocked at the solidarity shown by the FBI. Most of them didn't seem to care that he had mysterious people looking for him, which he had to admit was odd. He put that down to Hughes' influence and the way the office knew he didn't approve of the mysterious strangers.

After all, Peter was still suspicious of whatever it was Neal did that brought them here.

Hughes gave Neal a 'ride home' and stopped outside a familiar yogurt shop.

"Really?" Neal questioned. "You don't think they're going to come here?"

"It would be rude to invade another base. But, even if they do, you should be able to see them coming on the monitors and plan accordingly."

"What about this?" Neal pointed to his anklet.

"We're not staying," Hughes said, as if it was obvious. "This is the only way I know to contact Agent Winters. Tell Agent Burke you wanted frozen yogurt or something and I got it to make you be quiet and sit still."

Ever since finding out that Mozzie was part of the CIA, Hughes always called him 'Winters' when they were in private.

Mozzie had been surprised to see them. He hadn't received the notice like Hughes had.

Hughes explained that as Beckman making sure that he didn't arrest her agents or something. His warning had almost come too late to hide Neal anyway, which had probably been her plan.

"I'm surprised they didn't search the office," he commented.

"They probably believe they can hack the information," Neal informed them with a shrug. This news was met with two shocked stares.

"They probably can," Mozzie said, instantly going into disaster mode. "We need to quickly make sure there's no information that can help identify you-"

"Already done." Mozzie stared and Neal sighed. "I made sure of that when I first signed onto the FBI. Seriously Moz, I didn't leave the CIA to let a little thing like this catch me."

"Oh." Mozzie paused for a moment before calmly walking to the computer consoles. "I'm going to look anyway."

Neal understood that. Mozzie liked to be sure, it's part of why he made a good spy.

"Even with all these precautions, we're still up against another intersect," Neal pointed out. "Chuck is far more experienced with an Intersect than I am."

"What are you saying?" Mozzie growled. It was an unspoken warning to give up this path of thought. However, Neal hadn't listened when Mozzie had used that tone when he first dated Kate and he wasn't going to listen now.

He was careful about how he phrased his statement though. "If there's a team who can catch us, it's Chuck's."

"Then we better make sure they don't catch us," Mozzie responded.

Hughes was of a different mind. "We should make sure we're in control of what information they get."

Mozzie's eyes lit up. "Out spy the spies?"

"If there's a team that can do it, I think we're almost it."

Neal and Mozzie were both conman and they caught the manipulation in Hughes' words; a repetition of Neal's a moment ago.

"What do you mean 'almost'?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Explain**

Peter had a feeling that he was being just a paranoid as Mozzie. He managed to pull images of three of their four visitors. One of them, who he later identified as 'Chuck' from the Burbank Buy More website, somehow managed to keep his face out of the cameras the whole time he had been in the office.

It was an odd skill for someone to have. Not even Neal managed it as naturally as Chuck had. It was only noticeable if you were looking for it and Peter certainly hadn't noticed while talking to Chuck.

The appearance of these strangers revolved around Neal. At the very least, Neal had an idea what was going on. It was why Neal hadn't confronted them and had hidden away in Peter's office.

The strangers were not criminals. There was nothing in the history Peter managed to pull which suggested that. However, Peter had found a couple of rumours about them.

It was why, when Hughes invited Peter to a yogurt shop and then revealed a hidden office underneath, Peter realised that, "they really are spies," out loud.

"What are you talking about?"

"Those people who came into the office, Sarah, John, Morgan and Chuck, they're spies," Peter clarified. Then he sighed. "That means Neal is mixed up in spy stuff. Great."

Hughes seemed pleased that he had figured it out. "That's right. They're part of the CIA."

Peter paused and looked over at his boss. "You're telling me instead of denying it. Why?"

"You've figured out most of it. Now, you're going to learn the rest." Hughes motioned at the room around them. It was high tech with screens on the wall and a meeting table in the middle. "I am part of a three person team in New York which act with the CIA during certain times. However, only one of our members is technically a current employee of the CIA."

"Who?"

"Who do you think, Suit?" Mozzie's voice piped up as he walked by with a coffee in each hand. He placed one on the table and kept the other one for himself. "Hello, Reese. I see you did indeed decide to bring in the Suit as a fourth member of our team."

"He already figured out everything about Chuck and his team," Hughes pointed out.

"We could hear that," Mozzie responded.

"'We'?" Peter questioned.

There was a bang as someone rolled out from underneath a computer console.

"What were you doing down there?" Hughes demanded to know.

Neal ran a hand through his hair and grinned. "Well, I was making some upgrades to the computers."

"If it needs upgrades, then why are we using it?" Hughes queried.

"It's just this one computer and mostly because I'm using it to house Intersect information," Neal responded. "Including an Intersect upgrade I'm trying to recode from memory."

"Wait! We don't have the technology for that!" Mozzie complained.

"Back up," Peter said, holding up his hands. "What's an Intersect?" He listened calmly as Neal explained about the computer in his head and how it worked. The explanation of how Neal acquired it didn't make sense until Mozzie weighed in.

"Neal was a spy known as Bryce Larkin. Bryce died though and we're not supposed to talk about him."

"How did he- you- die?" Peter asked Neal.

"Gunshot to the gut," Neal responded with a shrug.

Peter didn't really know how to respond to that. He couldn't really imagine it and Neal was standing before him, completely fine. So, he decided to go with humour. "Not as good as a shark attack."

"Peter, I saved the fun ones for the FBI. I also agree, the shark attack was far more interesting."

Hughes wasn't impressed and had an expression like stone as he moved to the table and sat down.

"Let's plot. We need to keep Chuck's team from figuring out Neal and taking him or the Intersect away."

* * *

**Sneaking**

"Congratulations on becoming an honorary asset of the CIA," Neal whispered to Peter. Peter knew that Neal was trying to distract him but they needed to keep every bit of concentration on the task.

Neal's ear was pressed against the safe as he went through the motions of cracking it.

"Yeah, this feels so much different to what I normally do," Peter responded sarcastically. "Now focus on getting us into that safe."

A few moments later, Neal grinned and moved back, opening up the safe. They grabbed the USB and Neal quickly checked if it was the one they were after by plugging into a small tablet via the USB adaptor.

"Okay, let's go," he said as he pocketed their intel.

"Finally," Peter muttered quietly. "Why am I here anyway?"

Neal opened the window and jumped out. As Peter followed, he said, "I needed a lookout."

"Couldn't Mozzie do it?" Or Hughes? Peter didn't add that last bit as he respected Hughes more than Mozzie, even after learning that Mozzie was a spy.

Neal shook his head. "You had to take the anklet off, remember? It's the only way I could do this."

"And you're the only one who can crack the safe," Peter finished. They were rehashing an old conversation as Peter had been told all these points when they received the mission. Mozzie also suspected that he received the mission from General Beckman as a distraction, to keep him out of the way of Chuck's team. It didn't mean he liked it.

"It was clever of Hughes to bring you in though," Neal mused. "It gives me more freedom since you can take the anklet off."

"And Hughes can cover for me if someone starts asking questions," Peter reminded him. It was a good move overall, although Peter didn't appreciate having to pull double duty when it came to 'Neal sitting'.

There was also the other complication of how Neal had hidden a whole life from him which could have come back at any moment to bite them. Peter could only be glad that it had come in the form of Chuck's team rather than someone like Keller.

They reached the car and slipped in.

"Mission complete," Neal said with a relieved sigh.

"Don't call it yet," Peter reminded him. "We have to get this USB back to Mozzie before we can consider ourselves done for the night."

* * *

**Meet**

Mozzie looked 'Agent Carmichael' up and down. He kept his thoughtful expression, not letting his thoughts show. He knew that Neal wanted to see Chuck again from the way Neal kept looking at his face whenever shown a file. The small frown on Neal's face told Mozzie that Chuck was someone close to Bryce. After all, the only other time Mozzie saw that expression had been when he tried to convince Neal to do things against Agent Burke, like cutting the anklet and running.

"How can I help, Agent Carmichael?" he finally said. The team seemed to take these words as a welcome as they fanned out through the base.

"This looks like Castle," Morgan commented in a happy tone.

Mozzie liked how he said what the rest of them were probably thinking. "It was based off your base in Burbank."

Morgan grinned like it was a great compliment. It probably was as this team tended to set the trends for future teams. It was one of the reasons they were watched closely.

"You're not known for settling down, Agent Winters," Sarah commented. "Why do you have a base now?"

"New York is a city I just can't bring myself to leave," Mozzie pointed out. "I've been here off and on for the past decade so I decided to set up a base here." It was true. If they checked the records, they would see that Mozzie liked to be in New York. Of course, those records only included his time with the CIA. He was careful to keep everything else out of their reach.

It was a much easier feat when he had knowledge of the inner workings of the alphabet agencies.

"Mind if we use your base while we're here?" Sarah asked. Mozzie had to agree. Neal had already moved his intersect information and related computers out of the base, keeping any mention of the Intersect away from Mozzie.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hope**

El laid out some drinks and then waved goodbye, leaving the spies and her husband to talk. Peter's shoulders were slumped after Mozzie had informed him that the base was compromised for the time being and future meetings of their little, hidden team were going to take place at Peter's.

"Thank Mrs. Suit for the lovely refreshments for me," Mozzie said as he sipped his ice-tea.

"Sure," Peter sighed.

"It was quite nice of her," Neal said quietly, reaching for his own drink.

Hughes agreed and leaned back in the armchair he had taken for himself. Mozzie had pulled in one of the dining room chairs while Neal had taken a seat next to Peter on the couch. They created a circle around the coffee table, where the information on the Intersect and the known Intersect team were laid out.

"Has the General told you anything about their mission?"

Mozzie snorted at Peter. "This is the spy business. Unless you are directly involved in something, good luck hearing about it."

"But you also make it your business to know what's going on," Neal pointed out in a slightly disapproving tone.

"Of course I do. There's no survival rate otherwise. Bryce was an example of that."

"What do you mean?" Peter questioned. He knew about Neal being Bryce and Neal had mentioned dying but, Mozzie wasn't making his point well.

"Bryce didn't keep up with his information and walked right into a trap."

"It's interesting how no one considered that it might have been planned," Neal pointed out.

"What?" Mozzie questioned.

Neal gave a hoarse laugh, sounding more like Bryce than Neal in that moment of disbelief. "You never noticed? Come on, Moz. It's not like me to walk right into a trap."

There were three looks of disbelief.

"Are you forgetting how Peter arrested you?"

"Really?" Peter questioned.

"You trusted a snitch, Neal," Mozzie reminded him.

Neal shook his head and grinned fondly. It was nice to know he could still fool his friends. It was nice to feel the better spy when surrounded by agents and technically on the run.

"I handed myself in," Neal reminded them. "Just like in the Intersect room. The enemy thought they were killing me but I came prepared."

"How did you prepare?" Mozzie questioned. He was leaning forward but was frowning. "You didn't tell me about this."

"I had Orion assist me. He approved of my getting out and I know how you feel about spies."

"It's a tough job but someone has to do it," Mozzie said.

"You're also an incorrigible gossip," Hughes pointed out. "Just like most spies."

"Spies are gossips?" Peter questioned. Weren't their jobs to keep secrets?

Hughes turned to Peter. "Listen well, when dealing with spies, always remember that they want to know everything. Just like the gossip pulls out as much information as they can from those around them, in order to spread later, so does the spy gather information. They always have to do something with that information, even if it is just filing it away for later."

"None of this is going to help up with our Charles problem," Mozzie pointed out, changing the subject from spies being gossips.

"Actually," Neal hummed. He was smiling his conman smile. "It just might. If they're gossips, we just need to give them something to gossip about."

Peter caught on. "We need to make them think they've achieved what they came for."

"That's right," Neal nodded.

"Can we do it?" Mozzie questioned, sharing a look with Hughes.

"How do you plan to do it?" Hughes asked Peter and Neal.

* * *

**Assistance**

Chuck and the team came in the next day to find Neal's computer missing. The keyboard, monitor and mouse had all been left behind as had the wires which had connected everything together. Chuck stared at the wires lying free where the computer tower had been. Peter watched Chuck from the coffee machine.

"Showtime," Mozzie said from his side.

"Is this really going to work?" Peter asked. It seemed like a low-risk idea however, that just made it harder to predict what might go wrong.

"I think it might. It does seem a little low-key for Neal though."

"I think he doesn't want to run the risk of Chuck realising he's pulling strings here," Peter responded, "although I hate the thought that we're playing by his rules."

"Spy rules are almost his rules. At least Neal doesn't try to hurt people who don't deserve it."

"Stop gossiping and get to work!" Hughes barked down at them, causing Mozzie to jump and Peter to choke on his sip of coffee. "And someone get that con artist out of here unless he's assisting on a case."

"Not on your life," Mozzie grumbled back as he walked towards the door.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mozzie. All you have to do is call if it turns up on your radar."

Mozzie paused and pretended to think about it for a moment. "Fine, Suit. I'll call if I hear anything."

"Agent Winters?" Chuck whispered to him as he left. "What are you-"

"I happen to have ears and eyes in the FBI," Mozzie responded smoothly. "How's the case going, Agent Carmichael?"

"None of your business," Casey growled before Chuck could answer.

"Casey!"

"How do you know he didn't turn up here to mess with our mission?" Casey growled quietly back.

Chuck sighed but decided to indulge Casey and his paranoia this time and not continue talking to Mozzie about the mission. Once Mozzie was gone, he walked over to Agent Burke.

"Where's the computer that was at this desk?" he asked.

Peter was surprised that Chuck's voice was level and calm. He was not confronting Peter or accusing him like other agents might have in this situation. To be honest, Peter was working against him.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear last time. That computer had been playing up for ages, ever since an broken file appeared on it."

"A broken file?" Chuck repeated.

"Yeah, wouldn't work and we had no idea what it was," Peter responded as per Neal's script.

"It was corrupted?" Chuck questioned.

"I think that's what Cyber Crimes said. Something like that. They insisted we put in a ticket with IT since their job isn't to fix computers."

"Tickets take forever to get filled," Jones pointed out, playing along as Peter suspected he would. The team was good at picking up and joining in on acts. "They came for the computer last night."

"You've got to be kidding," Casey grumbled with a roll of his eyes. He turned and started towards the door before realising that Chuck wasn't following him. "What's wrong?"

"So IT came to take the computer?" Chuck questioned. "What about Neal Caffrey? He works on it."

"Neal doesn't know much about computers," Peter said with Jones nodding in the background. Neal admitted to Peter that he tried to cultivate that kind of image. "As soon as it started playing up, he stopped using it. I think he's using a laptop from home now. I bring him cases sometimes but, since he's not an agent, he's not required to be here all the time." A slight lie. Neal had to work full time at the FBI as part of his deal. Hughes was pulling strings to keep Neal's absence quiet.

"Can we take the computer from IT?" Chuck asked.

"I have no idea," Peter responded honestly. "You can try, I guess."

"Well, that's that. Let's go, Chuckles." Peter watched until Chuck was on the elevator.


	18. Chapter 18

**Shock**

Neal wandered the aisles of the art store, stocking up on things he was low on and grabbing some new brushes. He turned a corner and froze.

"Gotcha," Chuck said. He moved to casually lean on the shelves and knocked the small canvases to the ground. He flailed at the banging sounds and sighed. "Sorry."

Neal was all set to bolt, until the little mess up that was so Chuck made his chest tighten. "Are you apologising to the canvases?" he questioned in amusement. He moved forward and helped Chuck pick them up and put them back on the shelf.

"It's a reflex," Chuck sighed. "And I was really hoping to look to cool spy after tracking you down." He looked Neal up and down. "You're not what I was expecting Neal."

"What were you expecting?"

"Until I spotted you and flashed on information dad left in the intersect about you, I was expecting a, well, a Lester."

"A Lester?" Neal questioned in confusion.

"He's a guy who works in the Buy More," Chuck explained. "He has shoulder length greasy hair, has done things he probably should be arrested for, actually did end up in prison once and took over it, basically a strange guy with strange ideas, who thinks he's the best."

"Okay. What do you think of me now?" Neal motioned down to his shirt and slacks. He didn't dress in suits all the time and this was classy enough for an art store. Knowing the audience; i.e. the people around him, and adapting to that was an important trait for a conman. And spy.

After a thoughtful silence, Chuck concluded, "happy," to Neal's complete bafflement.

* * *

**Curiosity**

Reluctantly, Neal brought Chuck back to June's as it was the one place where they could talk about risk of either team finding them. There were still a lot of passageways and hidey holes they could use if they needed an escape.

"How'd you find me?" Neal asked. "Actually, why did you bother with finding me?"

Chuck grinned. "Why find you? Come on, you're a world-famous conman. I thought it would be it interesting to meet you. Also," Chuck pointed to the governor watch on Neal's wrist. "I think you downloaded something."

"Mostly an update. I've had an intersect from some of the first experiments. It went kind of haywire. Also, you've know the conman as long as you've known me."

"What?"

"Neal Caffrey is my real name," Neal said. He grinned awkwardly. "Bryce Larkin was a fabrication I used to get access to Stanford. I was kind of surprised when it actually worked and then I wanted to see how far I could take it and, before I knew it, Bryce Larkin had been accepted into the CIA."

"What? There was nothing about Neal Caffrey in Bryce's files."

"That's because the CIA doesn't know."

"You're kidding. You. Conned. The CIA? Wasn't that dangerous?"

Neal shrugged. "No more dangerous than any of my other cons. The CIA is kinda tame."

"Tame?"

"Tame," Neal confirmed with a nod. "Ask Moz about it anytime. But, you've been avoiding the question. How did you find me?"

Chuck blinked. "Um. You're Neal Caffrey. Working for the FBI on a work-release program." He pointed down. At Neal's ankle. "And you are required to wear a tracking anklet."

"You hacked my anklet?"

"Only to see where you were!" Chuck responded in a fluster.

* * *

**Anger**

Chuck went over to the fridge and opened it, wondering out loud what Neal had to eat and drink in here. Neal knew there wasn't much in the fridge. If he wasn't eating with someone else, he picked up ingredients before cooking. There was some food in the fridge but only the basics everyone stocked their fridge with and the beers for when Peter visited.

"Why are you so accepting of this?" Neal asked.

Chuck looked up in surprise as he pulled out two beers from the fridge. "What do you mean?"

"You're not surprised or angry to find me alive. And you certainly don't seem angry that I've been lying to you since we met."

Chuck opened his beer and took a few sips, mouth pressed tight and eyebrows pressing down in thought.

"Maybe you have been. But, we all try to start new lives in college. I left by best friend behind to go to Stanford. You just took that a little further than most which is kind of what you do."

"What I do?" Neal questioned.

"This big stuff. Like getting me discredited and kicked out to keep me safe and stealing a computer the size of a football field. And, if I read Neal's dossier right, you kind of did the same thing as a conman too. Did you really steal a Fiorentino from the Smithsonian and replace it with chocolate?"

Neal laughed. "You're still a fed Chuck. I'm not going to incriminate myself by answering about alleged crimes I may or may not have committed."

"Aw." Chuck's bottom lip curled in a pout and he took another sip of his beer.

"You're really not mad," Neal repeated, just to check. He couldn't believe Chuck wasn't the least bit angry. He wasn't even the disappointed and sad the way he had been when he realised that Bryce had betrayed him in Stanford.

"Look, I've been in this line of work a while now. There's one thing I've realised. Even when you think they're dead, some bad guys keep coming back. I think it's good that this time we have someone on our side come back."

"Bad guys come back?" Neal questioned.

"The only guy I shot dead, or so I thought, came back later on, discredited us, killed my dad and tried to kill Sarah," Chuck sighed.

Neal knew who had killed Orion, although he hadn't known that Chuck had shot him. "Oh. Shaw." He could feel his nose and lips sneer at the name. He didn't even hate Fowler as much as he hated Shaw for taking Mozzie's friend and their ally away.

"Yeah, Shaw." Chuck paused for a moment then stared at Neal. "How did you know?"

"I... flashed?" Neal lied, a little less smoothly than usual as Chuck was one of the few people he couldn't lie to. Chuck had to at least know that the program on Neal's computer had been an intersect.

"I know what a flash looks like. You haven't flashed this whole time." Neal moved to respond when realisation lit up Chuck's features. "You're the reason Agent Winters is so interested in our team."

"What?"

"Beckman mentioned to us that Agent Winters has asked her about us a number of times but she couldn't figure out why. The only thing she could find which even hinted at us was a connection between him and Bryce Larkin."

"Which existed before Agent Winters and Bryce Larkin," Neal informed Chuck.

"'Someone get that con artist out of here'," Chuck recited quietly, recalling the scene in the FBI just a few hours earlier. "Agent Winters' name is Mozzie."

Neal winced and wondered how Chuck had figured out, not realising that their little act had given Chuck the information.

"Should I bother asking you to keep this secret from the CIA?" Neal asked. "They don't know they've hired two conman."

Chuck thought about it for a moment. "Answer a question for me first. Why did my father send you an intersect?"

"I have no idea," Neal responded honestly. "Maybe because I already had one and the upgrade would hopefully keep me alive if trouble came. Maybe because he's friends with Moz and wanted to give us an advantage should something happen. Moz also theorised that maybe the block on my other intersect wouldn't have lasted forever and this was the best way of fixing it Orion could think of."

"Can't I tell my team you're alive?"

Neal really had to think about that. He knew what Mozzie's response to that would be. But, he also had a feeling he knew what Peter's response would be. In the end, this wasn't just his choice to make.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I forgot to mention earlier, but all the unmarked words in the last few chapters have come from KeJae.

 

**Family**

Neal knew who to call in a situation like this.

Elizabeth Burke.

She opened up the door to the Burke's place and let them in. Neal called the rest of the team, explaining one by one that Chuck had found out and asking them to come to Peter's place to talk about it.

"You should tell them I'm here," Chuck said.

"Nah," Neal responded as he hung up on Mozzie, who had been the final call. "They'll figure it out quick enough."

Chuck rolled his eyes because of course they would, once they spotted him sitting on the couch. El grabbed her keys before heading off.

"Watch Satchmo for me, okay Neal?" she said at the door.

"Sure, El."

"She's leaving you alone?" Chuck questioned.

"Uh, yeah?" Neal responded.

"In her house?"

"Yep."

"Knowing your past?"

"What's your point, Chuck?"

"She really seems to trust you."

"She shouldn't."

Chuck grinned at him. "I don't know. I think you've found a family."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Really, Chuck?"

"I think it's good for you. To have people around who aren't spies but are used to your lifestyle."

"I'm a criminal, Chuck."

"I've known a few good criminals."

Neal changed the subject, talking about the people working with him.

Chuck was surprised by the members of Neal's team. He already suspected Mozzie and Peter but hadn't realised that the head of the White Collar office, Reese Hughes, was also involved.

"It was Hughes' idea to bring Peter in," Neal said as he explained how he came to have all the members of Agent Winters' team.

It certainly explained how Winters could work alone and be based in New York. He already had the back up.

* * *

**Suspicion**

Peter had felt bad about tricking Agent Carmichael and his team. Chuck was a nice guy and more pleasant than anyone else who had come to investigate or assist his team. Plus, he had an intersect so Peter believed he would be good to have around for Neal when he might need help with his intersect.

Peter wasn't a fool. He knew that the wider CIA knowing would mean trouble. However, he had the feeling Chuck could keep a secret.

It was a relief when Neal called to say that Chuck had found him and that they needed to meet at Peter's house for a meeting.

Mozzie and Hughes did not share Peter's sentiments. Chuck was a nice guy but Hughes questioned his ability to handle keeping a secret like this.

Mozzie just didn't like the idea of anyone on Chuck's team knowing about them. The more a secret was known, the more it leaked to the wrong people.

"Did no one consider the anklet?" Mozzie posed the question to the room loudly.

Chuck raised his hand. "I did."

Peter grinned and Neal coughed to hide a laugh. Mozzie could see the grin hiding behind his hand.

"We can see that, Agent," Hughes said.

"Just trying to lighten the mood. I feel like I'm being interrogated," Chuck pointed out. He might have been sitting on the couch but Mozzie had chosen to stand before him while Hughes was sitting off to the side, watching his every move. Neal had pulled in a chair from the dining room and was sitting backwards on it, leaning on the back of the chair as he watched the agents discuss.

"That is correct." Mozzie crossed his arms and stared at Chuck. "Neal's secret is one we can't afford to let out. I'm sure you understand, having agents coming after you for nothing more than the secrets in your head."

"Everyone talks, Agent Carmichael," Hughes reminded Chuck.

Chuck's nervous grin faded as he pressed his lips into a thin line. "So I've been told. I'm not a fan."

Mozzie raised an eyebrow. "You don't think it's true?"

"The saying means you can't trust yourself or your allies. Getting out of the situation before talking should be the goal." Chuck smiled again. "Besides, I'm sure Agent Winters knows of some of the stuff my team's done over the years. At this point, I don't think anyone's taking us for information."

"You're saying they're more likely to want to kill you or take their revenge on you than care about intel gathering?" Hughes questioned.

Chuck nodded.

"You know this means we'll have to race to help if Chuck is taken captive at any point from now on," Peter stated.

The room went silent for a moment, Chuck grinning proudly.

Neal gave a low whistle. "That's manipulative, Chuck." Implying that this had been his plan. Get them to want to save him, if he's ever in trouble, so that their secrets stay safe.

"It's not my intention but that's a cool way of looking at it," Chuck responded. "I would love the chance to work with your team."

"Nope."

"Moz," Neal sighed.

"Let's not forget the last time you worked 'with' Chuck's team. You ended up dead."

"That was staged, Moz."

"Leaving me alone, within the enemy's bowels."

"You've never been happier than working for the CIA. You make the conspiracy theories now."

"I know." Mozzie grinned and rubbed his hands together.

"So, we can work together?" Chuck questioned.

"Sure," Peter said.

"I see no issue with that," Hughes concurred.

* * *

**Decision**

"Decision time: do we let Chuck's team in on the secret?" Neal proposed.

Chuck fidgeted as the other three men shared looks.

"Is there any reason to?" Hughes proposed. Mozzie nodded in agreement.

"It might be helpful having another team to call on should anything happen with the CIA," Peter pointed out. Neal nodded in agreement with that.

Chuck waited a moment in the resulting silence before voicing his thoughts.

"They're right," he said to Neal and Peter. "As much as I hate to say it, there's no reason to tell my team. While I'm sure Sarah would be pleased to see you again and know you survived, it's not like she's dwelling on your death. And Casey will probably try and shoot you again." Neal winced but it was true. "You really only need one contact among my team, a role I could take. Besides, should you need assistance, you could just contact my team even without me."

"If you don't plan to tell your wife, then how are you going to stay in contact with us?" Mozzie questioned. He leaned forward to listen, interested in how Chuck was going to answer this.

* * *

**Game**

Sarah grabbed a book and ignored her husband as he typed away at the computer and spoke to some people who could be anywhere in the world. After New York, she figured they all needed a break. New York has been a bust of a mission, nothing going on at all. Now that they were back in Burbank, Chuck was spending time unwinding by playing computer games.

Chuck moved the mouse, the view on the screen swivelling around as he took in the surroundings in the game.

"I don't see Dante," he announced, a creeping worry in his gut.

"That's not good," Neal's voice sounded loud and clear through Chuck's headphones. "Who's his partner?"

Chuck would not admit to checking in a way not known to the average gamer. "Someone who goes by Salieri," Chuck informed him.

"Salieri?" Neal sounded mystified for a moment before he cursed. "Sally."

"Hello Neal," a woman's voice came through clearly. "This means that everyone here has better hardware than you do, Neal."

"Sorry for playing on my laptop," Neal grumbled sarcastically back.

"Neal doesn't really have anywhere in his apartment where he can place a computer," Mozzie explained. "A laptop suits his lifestyle."

"It's powerful enough."

"Of course it is," Sally said, sounding like she was humouring him. "Hey, Carmichael, I see you."

Chuck quickly moved his character, looking frantically around for wherever Sally was hiding.

"She's using the cloaking, Chuck! Get out of there!" Neal bellowed at him. Chuck could see Neal's character jumping over a nearby fence, rushing over in hopes of doing something.

Chuck's character gave a gurgle as a light blade sliced through him like butter, killing him.

"I see you now!" Neal said, firing his gun where Sally had been revealed.

He should have been paying attention. He stepped on a mine and his character went up in an explosion.

Neal cursed again as the loser screen popped up on his and Chuck's computers.

"Play again?" Sally asked in a smooth and smug tone.

"We need the practice," Chuck said to Neal.

Neal groaned.

"Again Neal. And watch out for mines this time," Mozzie said.

"Fine," Neal huffed and the next game loaded.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: This might be the last update before Christmas. Enjoy. _Italics are used to describe what's going on in the game while Chuck and Neal talk_. The game they're playing is kind of a blend of different fantasy role-playing games.

 

**Case**

Peter looked around the room. The crime scene investigators were walking around and taking pictures of everything.

"Okay, let's get this done," Peter said to Neal.

Neal looked around and then at the case. "Can I see those?" he asked the agent dusting the case.

The agent looked to Peter and Peter nodded. The three gem necklaces were pulled out and placed in front of them.

Neal picked up the blue one first and examined it. Then the pink. Finally the green.

"Huh."

"What is it?" Peter questioned.

"They left the Benitoite necklace but took the pink topaz and the green emerald and replaced them with forgeries."

"Benitoite?" Peter asked. "I thought it was a sapphire."

"An easy mistake to make, Peter. But this is benitoite. Where did these gems and necklaces come from?"

The agent pointed over in the direction of a man in a nice suit, cheeks flush as he spoke to another agent.

"Why does it matter where the gems come from?" Peter questioned.

"Benitoite is only found in California, which is why it sells for so much. And who else do we know who lives in California?"

Peter shook his head as he recalled Agent Carmichael and his team. "Please don't talk conspiracies to me."

Neal huffed. "Mozzie likes it. Besides, I'm sure it's nothing. The criminals probably didn't have a forgery ready for the Benitoite so didn't take it."

Peter shook his head. Even though that was hopefully the case, Neal had already hinted at the other option which meant they had to at least consider it.

* * *

**Mission**

There had been no reaction from the intersect from any of the pictures and the cameras didn't pick up anything out of the ordinary. It was frustrating because they had two stolen necklaces and no leads.

Neal brought it up during his game with Chuck. The headphones went over his ears, the microphone adjusted and the characters selected.

"You know, I once tricked a group of enemy agents that I had them surrounded by getting Morgan to quote our Call of Duty squad," Chuck mentioned.

"I don't see how that applies to the stolen necklaces."

_Neal ran his character up the nearest hill, looking to survey the area._

"It doesn't really. Just wanted to point out that I am very good at the bluff." There was a pause before Chuck added, "Neal, you make a living off bluffing. It's how you got into Stanford. And then you used your skill to get into the CIA and now the FBI."

"I'm not technically a member of the FBI. I'm just a consultant. One with a leash."

"Your two mile radius? Again, you've bluffed your way out of that a number of times."

"Chuck-"

"I've read reports, Neal."

_Neal's character reached the top. There were some enemies at the bottom of the mountain and a target in the nearby forest as well as a road and a city. Chuck's character rumbled up behind him, a slower character with good attack and defence. And a big axe. For some reason._

Neal winced. Of course Chuck would learn things about Neal's past. Neal had recently been a person of interest in the CIA.

"City or forest? And thanks for not telling Sarah or Casey about me," he said. The team had gone back to Burbank after Chuck had said there was little to no chance of someone downloading an intersect off the computer.

"Forest. Let's gather up experience. And not a problem. You can repay the favour by bouncing ideas off me. How do you think it went down?"

_The characters darted off towards the forest. Inside there were spider monsters which dropped down from the trees, wolves and bunnies. The bunnies didn't attack but they could be killed for items._

Neal ran through all the scenarios he could think of to steal the necklaces. They had only been out for a couple of days so it would take a high quality forger to complete the two copies.

"What about the one that wasn't forged? Didn't that go out on display at same time as the two stolen necklaces?" Chuck said.

"That's something that doesn't add up. I was thinking that maybe they couldn't forge it but the forgery didn't have to be perfect. I spent a lot of the day convincing agents that it wasn't a sapphire or any other kind of blue gem."

"Understandable. So, why forge only the two? Obviously whomever it was wanted those two. But why? Talk me through this like a spy."

_Neal's character cast a healing spell on Chuck's before the character lost all its HP._

Neal made a face at that, forgetting for a moment that Chuck couldn't see it. "I have no idea," he sighed. "There must have been something but it's not like the intersect was helpful."

"Of course not. If you'll flash on them, you'll need the right kind of trigger. A fake might not be enough, especially if you're able to tell the difference. But that doesn't affect your spy abilities. Talk me through this like a spy mission. It's not unheard of for gems to hold mircodots and things."

"The gems would hold some kind of information which I, as a spy would want," Neal mused, realising that Chuck was right. "So I would need to make sure that the theft doesn't go discovered for a while. But, it was discovered."

_A stone wall covered in moss started appearing on the edge of their view. They rushed towards it._

"How?"

"A jeweller dropped one of the necklaces and it cracked. That sparked suspicion. It was chance; luck. A sign of a thief and not a professional forger. The necklaces I'm after were shipped out from Burbank. They were in a display together. However, the benitoite was from a different store in California. I don't know that'll mess with the plan later, I just get whatever information I can in order to forge the necklaces I do want and follow them to New York."

"Information you can?"

"A photo would be good. Being able to see them in person would be-" A thought occurred. "Hey, Chuck. Would you be able to get footage of the necklaces in Burbank so we can cross-reference some of the people interested in them with the people in New York?"

"I can do the referencing myself. I have created a program to do so," Chuck responded.

Neal thought about it for a moment. The main problem with that was that Peter would get annoyed with the sharing of evidence. But, it wasn't like they would advertise that.

_The screen went black as they went inside. 'Midori Relic Temple'._

"I guess that's okay."

"This is going to be awesome!" Chuck squealed as the inside of the temple loaded. Neal could practically hear him bouncing.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: No prompt words for this one as it's more of a continuation of the previous chapter's plot.

 

Neal was grinning as he waltzed into Peter's office. Peter smiled back and spoke before he could.

"Agent Blake told me about the names you had him run."

Neal's smile faulted for a moment. "Aw, come on Peter, you're taking the fun out of it. I was going to come in here and tell you I'd solved it."

Peter raised a sceptical eyebrow. Neal kept grinning as he tossed the files onto Peter's desk. He looked them over. Blake had already given him the names however, he also knew this wasn't solved.

"We'll need a warrant to search the locations these two have been associated with," he pointed out.

"I know that," Neal said as he handed Peter screenshots he had. It placed their two suspects at the scene, looking at the necklaces. "Anyway, these two came in, asked to see the necklaces, there was a distraction as one of them dropped all their wallet onto the ground. The other one made the switch."

Peter looked at the pictures. He could see the money spilling out onto the floor. The large amount of money spilling across the floor would distract anyone. "Who carries that much money these days?"

"People looking to make a distraction," Neal responded. "The point is, they're the people we're looking for. I did have to get Blake to run the names but I can already tell you that they are known to the CIA."

"You did that thing with your head?" Peter was still getting used to the idea that Neal just had to look at things and sometimes his brain would download the information. It was a good thing he had practice in looking the other way when it came to Neal's sources.

"Chuck calls it a flash. And we both did. I had Chuck help me look through the security feeds," Neal explained, "and this switch was expertly done. If I hadn't been looking for it, I wouldn't have seen it."

"Great. I'll let Hughes know."

* * *

Hughes told Peter to take Neal with them when they searched the suspects' known locations. Not only were his criminal abilities handy when it came to knowing where to hide things but the Intersect in his head was likely to flash on anything outside their experience.

"This is ridiculous!" their suspect defended themselves as Peter and Neal walked in. Peter had to admit that the Intersect was impressive if it allowed Neal to recognise this guy when he wasn't wearing his toupee. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

None of the agents were impressed with the anger the suspect sent their way. Even Neal wasn't impressed with the way this guy ran his mouth off.

Even Neal had more sense than these spies, if they were even spies and not just some dumb schnooks tricked into doing this job by real spies. He walked around, checking behind paintings, in drawers and anywhere else a spy would hide things.

He looked under the bed and sighed.

"Peter, come help me move this," he said. Peter gave him a strange look but the agent knew better than to ask questions. Together, they moved the bed a little to the side, revealing the floor underneath.

Specifically, the dusty floorboards underneath. All except one, which must have been moved recently.

"Why don't they just paint a neon sign? 'Here it is!' or something," Neal commented as he knelt down and jimmied the floorboard up. Inside sat a small, navy drawstring bag, the kind used to store jewellery. Neal pulled it up and opened it, letting the necklaces spill out onto the ground. "There you go. No flashes needed."

Peter didn't miss the way the way Neal's eyelids flickered when he looked down at the necklaces.

"Hm, so what was the flash about then?"

"Just the super secret information the CIA probably wants out of these necklaces," Neal sighed. "You know, the stuff that makes your job more complicated."

* * *

Hughes brought them good news and bad news. The good news was that this was considered a win for the FBI. The bad news was that the CIA wanted to look at the necklaces and were sending an agent to pick them up.

Mozzie was trying to find out who they were sending however General Beckman was keeping that information from him.

"Why are we still having these meetings at my house instead of the secret, high-tech spy base?" Peter asked.

"Because El is a part of the Burke seven," Neal reminded Peter. "Or eight, whichever you prefer." El looked up from the book she was reading in the lounge and raised her glass to the men at the dinning room table.

"I prefer not putting my wife in danger," Peter responded.

Mozzie snorted. "She'll be fine. I've already shown her where to go in case of emergency. Besides, Neal excels at painting himself as a big target."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment, Neal."

"Sadly, Agent Winters is not as trusted in the CIA as he used to be," Mozzie said, answering Peter's question of why they weren't using the base. "And the base is the CIA's territory."

"Intersects are sought after, Peter," Neal felt he had to add. "And in constant danger. There's a reason two agents were sent to protect Chuck when he first started out."

"It was actually because the NSA and the CIA both wanted their own people there. Because you don't even trust your allies in this work," Mozzie said with a grin. He liked it that way.

"And Neal?" Peter asked because it was obvious that Mozzie bent a lot of his own ideas for the criminal and ex-spy.

"Neal's Neal." Mozzie turned to Hughes. "Did they say when they were sending the agent?"

"No." Hughes was also not impressed with being kept out of the loop. "We will have to be vigilant."

"What are the odds they'd even send someone who's met Bryce?" Neal questioned.

"It doesn't matter, Caffrey. They could take pictures to send back since the CIA doesn't know what you look like since you avoided Carmichael's team."

Neal had to admit, Hughes made a good point. Just because Chuck's team had left, didn't mean they could let their guards down.

* * *

Neal sighed heavily as he thought about the agent coming. Peter looked up from his computer and raised an eyebrow.

"Something bothering you?"

"I thought Bryce's death and leaving the spy world for good meant I wouldn't have to be looking over my shoulder all the time."

Peter seemed amused but he didn't laugh. Instead, he calmly reminded Neal that Mozzie was still a spy and that Neal himself had a CIA computer in his head.

"You know that there's no such thing as a clean break, Neal," Peter pointed out. "But, even so, you have to admit that your break was pretty far from clean. I know you still hang out in Mozzie's spy base and that you and Chuck play multiplayer games together."

"With Mozzie's help and Orion's safeguards, I've managed to dodge the CIA so far," Neal reminded him.

Peter grinned. "Hm. I caught a criminal the CIA didn't even realised existed so close to them and a criminal who has managed to avoid them for years. I guess that makes me a good agent then, huh?"

"I let you catch me."

Peter reached out and his hand touched the desk. The file he had been expecting to be there was gone.

"Ugh, I think I might have put it back," he grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I'll get it." Neal stood up, went down and picked up the file before heading back up to Peter's office.

* * *

Neither of them noticed the man who stood at the entrance, pleasantly chatting away to one of the women in the office. He was in a nice pinstripe suit with his grey hair neatly wisping back over his head. He had a nice smile and a deep and smooth voice.

Flirting and seduction was his spy game. He taught the lessons and did the impossible.

Even if the impossible was a chance look at the elusive Neal Caffrey.

He thanked the woman for her time and walked right back to the elevator. It was a good thing he hadn't gotten to telling her why he was there because there might be a change of plans.

Pulling out his phone, he dialled a familiar number. "Diane? There's something in New York you might like to see personally. And I don't mean me."


	22. Chapter 22

**Force**

Neal sketched out a replica of The Starry Night on his notebook with a pen while Hughes and Peter spoke to the office. It was just a staff meeting and Neal could see that a few agents were yawning and doodling on their paper like he was.

It was no surprise to see a lot of jumping in their seats as the door was shoved open and a short, perpetually frowning woman stormed into the room. She stood tall and her military garbs caused a lot of agents to shy away.

Neal's heart had frozen in his throat.

General Beckman's eyes fixed on him.

"Neal Caffrey, I presume?" she questioned in a hard tone that made Neal swallow reflexively.

Peter instantly stepped between Neal and the General, placing a hand on the table and leaning on it.

"What business do you have with Neal?" he asked.

She fixed her glare on him but Peter stood tall. Both Hughes and he had been introduced to General Beckman through pictures and information provided by Mozzie.

"How can I help you?" Neal questioned, leaning around the physical barrier Peter had created. Maybe if he played dumb, she wouldn't call him out.

"Call Agent Winters here."

"I'm sorry-"

"Play dumb and you might not like the consequences and where they land," she informed him before turning to Hughes. "I require this room and Caffrey's presence for the foreseeable future."

The FBI agents murmured among themselves, wondering what was going on.

"Everyone outside," Hughes barked after a moment thought. "Burke and Caffrey remain here."

Neal clicked his tongue. He had been planning to sneak out in the crowd. Peter gave him a worried look and he just shrugged. It was best to play by the General's rules for the moment as they couldn't risk pulling anyone else into this. He shot Mozzie a text to tell him what was going on. It was up to him whether he ran to safety or came here to face the dragon.

"Boss?" Diana questioned, not moving. Jones was right by her side, showing the solidarity of the FBI in this confusing moment.

"Go. If Mozzie arrives, send him up," Peter said. "It'll be fine, this is probably about the necklaces."

They didn't look convinced but left since Peter told them to.

"It seems Agent Burke has designed the cover story," General Beckman said, arms latched behind her back as she spoke. "As far as anyone knows, I'm here to collect and discuss the stolen gems."

"What are you really here for?" Hughes demanded to know.

Beckman turned to Neal. "Agent Bryce Larkin."

"Never heard of him," Neal responded automatically.

Beckman frowned and pulled out a card. The moment Neal spotted the pattern on it, his vision flashed and his ears rang.

"Neal!" Peter cried out as he grabbed his head.

"I don't appreciate being lied to. Especially by someone who is possessing an important piece of CIA property."

"Considering this was given to me by the man who created it, I don't think you have any right to call it 'CIA property'," Neal responded. His tone was scathing as he spoke through the echoes of pain.

"It contains information from the CIA," Beckman responded calmly.

"And information from the FBI," Hughes added.

"Neal has contracted his services to the FBI," Peter informed her. "And it's either this or jail."

"I am aware of Neal Caffrey's conviction. However, Bryce Larkin is still part of the CIA and has abandoned his responsibilities."

"Did you really need me? Chuck seems to have done a fine job of keeping the Intersect Project the way his father envisioned."

Beckman was not impressed.

"Bryce Larkin didn't even exist," Neal decided to add. "He was just an identity I created to get into Stanford."

Beckman's frown twitched. "I see. And yet, you displayed enough intellect to not only pass your classes but to also attract the eye of our recruiter. I don't care if Bryce Larkin is your real name or not, Sarah Walker wasn't always known as Sarah Walker. Charles Carmichael is a name gaining fame or infamy depending on who you're talking to."

"Okay, Charles certainly doesn't exist. Chuck only uses that name for missions."

"And some people only know him by that name. _But I am not here to discuss your identity issues_ ," Beckman snapped.

"Take a seat," Hughes said, holding out a seat for Beckman. He shot a look at Peter which said the same thing. "We will discuss this properly."

* * *

Mozzie came in calmly. Clutched in his hands was what Neal thought of as the 'lawyer bag', a dark satchel.

"Diane," he greeted.

Diane didn't look back at him as she spoke. "Agent Winters, take a seat."

Neal and Mozzie shared a look. It was a look which essentially conveyed 'we're in trouble' but was specific to being in trouble with agents and agencies.

Mozzie did so but dropped a file in front of Beckman as he did. The file was thick.

"That's everything on Neal Caffrey that may concern you," Mozzie said. "His past, his alleged crimes and information on the Larkin con."

"Not really a con," Neal sighed.

"It was a con to get access to college-level resources," Mozzie countered. "And then you joined the CIA sometime during that con. Which I didn't find out about until later."

"I would assume your discovery closely coincided with your recruitment into our agency," Beckman commented.

Mozzie didn't bother looking at Beckman as he responded with, "close enough."

Neal rolled his eyes. Mozzie probably considered himself a spy long before he joined the CIA, just not an agent.

"Does the FBI get a look at that file?" Hughes questioned.

"No. Do your own investigative work," Mozzie responded, "Super-Suit."

"The file probably contains information the CIA wouldn't want the FBI to have," Neal pointed out.

"And also provides alibis for some of your alleged crimes," Beckman commented as she flicked through.

"Rumours can be just as powerful as truth in both of my lines of work."

"Like the whole music box thing," Peter pointed out.

Neal nodded. Like the whole music box thing. That caused a lot of problems, just because he let people believe he had been successful in stealing it.

"At least this explains why Agent Winters has been so invested in the movements of Chuck's team," Beckman mused. "He's been checking on them for you."

"And for Orion," Mozzie added. "While he was alive, I was one of his connections to the CIA."

Beckman wasn't surprised to hear that. When she reached the last few files, she was treated to the real story behind some of Agent Winters' more recent cases. Anything he had called in Neal's assistance for had been recorded, as had the contributions of Agents Burke and Hughes.

"Right," she said as she closed the file and stood up. "Reese, if I could see you in the adjoining office?"

Hughes nodded and followed the order as Beckman ordered the other agents to remain in the room.

"I'm not technically an agent anymore," Neal muttered. "Do I really have to be here?"

"You know as well as I that the Intersect at least gives you 'asset' status," Mozzie reminded him. "And it's better to be an agent than an asset."

"Depends on the kind of agent you are."

Peter looked at the door Beckman and Hughes had gone though and then back to Neal and Mozzie.

"You know Beckman better than I do," he said, "what do will her next move be?"

"No idea," Neal and Mozzie said in unison.

"There are too many options and too many different ways she could go, depending on her mood," Mozzie said. "I don't believe she will harm us as she seems to go for the 'status quo' kind of option as long as it works."

"Prove to her that you work and she'll leave you be," Neal said with a tone of realisation. He looked over to Mozzie. "That's why you brought the files."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"If she doesn't decide to take Neal away and have him reinstated as Bryce Larkin, where he would be running around the world and doing missions until he's six feet under because he's working alone and dangerously," Mozzie pointed out. "Also an option."

Peter gave Neal a look. The 'I know this isn't a hypothetical, what happened?, I'm worried,' look.

Neal remembered that time. Just after Bryce's first revival when before his second death. He had gone undercover a few times and almost died because no one was there to back him up. Maybe he did get a little sloppy since his previous partner, Sarah had chosen Chuck over him and he didn't trust many people to watch his back.

Neal was saved from a Peter Burke interrogation as Hughes and Beckman emerged from the adjoining office with their decision.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: What was supposed to be a final chapter, ended up longer than planned. So at least one more chapter after this.

 

Beckman's decision was to keep their team the way it was. However, it also included the condition that Neal would go back to calling himself Bryce Larkin outside of the FBI.

Neal's heart sunk as he heard that.

"There's a problem with that suggestion," Peter said.

"What is it?" Beckman demanded to know.

Neal felt Peter's gaze, even though he tried to look okay with this.

"It seems counterproductive to call Neal by another name outside of the FBI office. Aside from it confusing people who already know him as Neal, it seems dangerous to advertise that he used the name 'Bryce Larkin' once."

"Bryce Larkin is a well-respected spy-"

"Was," Neal interrupted. He couldn't let Peter keep defending him like this. "Bryce Larkin is dead and will stay that way."

"And yet, you stand before us," Beckman said, "looking good for a dead man."

Neal bit the inside of his lip to keep from saying something he would regret. Mozzie stood up.

"I agree with the Suit and Neal. Bryce Larkin is dead. Reviving him at this point serves no purpose."

"It gets one of my agents off his FBI leash," Beckman responded.

Hughes frowned. "You didn't mention that."

"I see," Mozzie said. "If Bryce Larkin is undercover as Neal Caffrey, then you can get clearance to take the anklet off. But, if Neal Caffrey was Bryce Larkin but isn't anymore, the anklet stays on. It's the semantics of the situation."

"Caffrey stays in the anklet," Hughes decreed. "There's no reason for him to go free, we have managed to work within the confines of the anklet previously. Surely you could see that in the reports."

"Caffrey needs to be paired with FBI in order to move outside of the two mile radius," Beckman reminded him. "The only reason you've succeeded so far is because Burke is on your team." Hughes opened his mouth to respond but she kept speaking. "And it would look strange if Caffrey was being seen with you, Reese. You're not a field agent."

"I'll be an asset, not an agent," Neal said. "At least until my four years are up. General, Peter proved I committed those crimes. Things the CIA didn't even notice I did."

"The CIA didn't even notice that Bryce Larkin was an alias," Mozzie pointed out in his 'helpful' way.

Beckman's eyes narrowed for a few moments, jaw tensing. No one said anything as she thought.

"I'm sorry to interupt but there's a Mr. Carmichael on the phone," Diana's voice came through clearly. "He insists on being put through."

Neal nodded at Peter. Peter said to put him through. A moment later, Chuck's voice rang out.

"Am I too late?" he said.

"I think you might be just on time," Neal commented, giving Beckman another look. Her jaw had relaxed slightly, although there were worry lines at the sides of her eyes and forehead, as if anticipating the headache Chuck was about to cause.

"I just wanted to remind the good General that there is another unconventional team which gets the job done. Interestingly enough, they also possess an Intersect. I've been looking over Agent Winter's operation and I believe they have all the potential of a good intersect team, although an unconventional spy team."

Beckman relaxed a little as she said, "and you're in charge of anything relating to Intersects, including the choosing of new agents and Intersect teams." She had been the one to give Chuck that responsibility after he was the only one who proved apt at handling an intersect as well as the successes of his team. She turned to Mozzie. "Agent Winters, submit reports and a proposal for your team. You do not have to make any changes unless you feel they would benefit your team. Submit them to myself and Agent Carmichael. It seems there's nothing that needs to change here."

Neal grinned at Peter, glad that he had texted Chuck as well as Mozzie earlier. Chuck had come through, although Neal hadn't realised his old friend had been given so much power over Intersects. It seemed he outranked Beckman's decisions concerning his father's invention.

"A second Intersect team does your department well," Hughes praised. "After all, such as thing hasn't been achieved since the first team was created."

"That is correct," Beckman said. "And there's nothing I need to do here." She still seemed disappointed that she couldn't reclaim Bryce Larkin but this was better than nothing.

"Toss us a mission every now and then," Mozzie said as Beckman left.

* * *

**Introduce**

Neal's phone rang during a sunny afternoon. Neal was attempt to capture the rays hitting the building across the street when his ringtone shattered his concentration.

With a sigh he picked it up and answered it.

"Seriously, Moz, I'm painting-"

"Neal." Not Moz.

"Sara?" Why did her voice sound strained? "You okay?"

"I just off a plane and I think there's some guys following me. How soon do you think Peter can intercept them or extract me?"

Fun way of putting it, Neal thought as he grabbed one of his burner phones and shot a text to Peter that Sara was in town and in danger.

"He wants to know where you are."

"A few streets away from June's. She has enough back doors that I should be able to get in and lose them at the same time, right?"

"I think most of them are exits or boarded up," Neal said. He gave Peter the location while heading down the stairs himself. "But I think I can help."

"Really Caffrey?" Despite the strain in her voice, the scepticism rang through. "These aren't your kind of criminals."

"I'm going to guess they're organised." Neal decided to ignore the 'your kind of criminals' comment. At least that made it easier to picture what he was up against. He turned the corner and hung up, spotting Sara quickly walking his way. Behind her was certainly a car and a man who looked like he stepped right out of a movie about criminals. Tall, bald with a scar across the skin above his eye and wearing a dark suit and sunglasses. Neal moved into step next to Sara. "Why are they following you?"

"I have no idea."

Neal stared at her as they moved. Sara scowled at him before digging around in her bag.

"I got suspicious and searched myself. I found this." She tugged something in her bag and Neal caught a glimpse of something that looked like a hard drive. Except, there was a symbol towards the edge that he also spotted.

Neal stumbled, Sara holding him up by the shoulders as his vision flickered and flashed.

"Yep. It's safe to say that's what they're after," Neal announced, moving out to hail a taxi.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked as he motioned for her to get in. "You looked like you were having a seizure."

"Not a seizure. It means I know a bit about what you're carrying." He turned to her with a serious expression. "How did you end up with a CIA component in your bag?"

"A what?" Sara snickered. "Have you been listening to Mozzie too much?"

Neal shook his head. "Think. How did it end up in your bag?"

She frowned at him and looked at the object, thinking. "I have no idea. I had my bag most of my flight. It did go above me in the carriage compartment but I think it might have been in there by then." Neal rolled his eyes at the 'I think'. She knew it already had been there and probably left it so she could research it after landing.

"You're lucky it's not an explosive."

"You're probably right about that, Caffrey. But, it's an interesting mystery. I do believe I bumped into a guy in the airport who slipped it into my bag."

"A guy in the airport? That's not helpful at all," Neal sighed.

* * *

Sara's eyes widened as Neal opened the door to the frozen yogurt place.

"This doesn't seem like your kind of place, Neal."

"Trust me, this'll be worth it," he said with a grin.

The sight of Mozzie behind the counter in his uniform caused Sara to laugh, proving him right.

"Neal? What's she doing here?"

In response, Neal quietly apologised to Sara as he reached into her bag and pulled out the component.

Mozzie froze mid-scolding; saying something about how he had an image to keep up, and stared.

"How'd it end up in her bag?" When Neal explained, he turned to Sara. "Where did you fly in from?"

"Burbank."


	24. Chapter 24

"Burbank."

"Of course," Mozzie muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Neal snorted at the response while Sara just glared between the two of them.

"What? What's so funny?"

"You just flew in from a CIA hotspot," Mozzie grumbled. "And we'll probably have to liaison with Carmichael."

"Come on, Moz, what's wrong with Chuck?"

Mozzie, who had been about to open the back door, turned to glare at Neal.

"Really? You spent time playing games with him when you could have been using your time in Stanford to study."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Moz? I got in through a fake name. I think I could spend my time in Stanford doing whatever I wanted."

Mozzie snorted. "You should have studied rather than playing Zork. What possessed you to go into computers anyway?"

"I wanted to know more about computers?" Neal suggested rhetorically, crossing his arms over his chest. There was nothing wrong with spending his time playing Zork. Zork was cool. It was interactive and fun.

"Zork?" Sara questioned. "What's that?"

Neal felt his face heat up. Suddenly, an old computer game seemed like an odd thing to be attached to. Admitting he not only played it but programmed his own version was worse. After all, Neal Caffrey was a conman and thief and he knew what people saw when they looked at him and it was not the kind of guy who sat in front of computers all day.

"It was a computer game Neal got into while at Stanford," Mozzie said, finally opening the 'employees only' door.

Neal lifted up the counter and motioned for Sara to walk through. She gave him a inquisitive look as she passed him. He felt like she was sizing him up.

"What's back here?" Sara asked Mozzie. Mozzie pressed his finger to the pad and keyed in his pin. The door opened and he motioned for her to go through.

"Secret CIA base," Neal said, touching her arm as he guided her down.

Sara's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "I can't believe what I'm hearing." She shook her head.

However, she couldn't deny something was going on as they entered the large meeting room with a table, chairs and computer hub.

"What is all this?"

"Team... well, I don't think we came up with a name," Neal said with a grin. "I mean, Chuck took Team Intersect, Team Chuck and Team Carmichael."

"Chuck has no imagination," Mozzie muttered. "Neal, contact the suits. We'll need them to back up our story."

"Already done. Peter's on his way."

Sara's eyes widened, she was surprised by this news. "Peter knows about this room?"

"Of course he does," Neal responded. "I may be a CIA asset but the FBI has first dibs."

"Only because you burned your CIA ID and plan to keep it that way," Mozzie pointed out, in a more understanding tone than Neal would expect. He knew that Mozzie sometimes thought he had abandoned him to 'government forces', not that Neal wouldn't storm the highest security CIA base to help Moz if he needed it.

"Burned his what?" Sara questioned. At that exact moment, Mozzie brought up Bryce Larkin's profile to the screen. Along with his recorded 'deaths' and missions.

Sara read though, hand covering her mouth as she read the details. She remembered chasing Neal to a few of those places.

When she finished reading, she turned to Neal.

"You conned the CIA?"

"Something like that. To be honest, I was a model agent until the whole intersect mess," Neal responded.

Sara studied him for a moment. Neal couldn't tell what she was thinking. He often couldn't tell what she was thinking. For a while he thought that's why they never made a good couple. They were both unable to tell when the other was telling the truth.

Peter arrived a few moments later and Hughes wasn't far behind.

* * *

Hughes thoughtfully looked through the write up on what had happened.

"Mozzie, do you have an ID on the guy in the airport?"

Mozzie gave a negative from the computer.

"Do you think we should give Chuck a call and see if he has any ideas?" Peter asked Neal.

Neal frowned and rested his arms on the table as he leaned forward. "I don't know." He had his suspicions though. He knew Chuck knew about Sara, she had been one of the things he had told Chuck about when Chuck found him.

Sara had laughed upon finding out that Chuck had used the anklet to locate Neal. He would say that had no influence on wanting to talk to Chuck right now but, Neal didn't like to lie.

"Call Chuck," Peter said to him.

"Fine," Neal huffed, standing up and moving to the adjoining room. Chuck picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Chuck, it's Neal Caffrey."

"Oh! Hey! I heard you guys got cleared to be an official team. Congrats!"

Neal rolled his eyes but a smile came to his face. It was nice to talk like this. "If you think this means no more video games, you'd be wrong. I still need to avenge Mozzie for that one time you knocked him off that cliff."

"That's the game." Neal could hear Chuck shrug. For a non-violent guy, he could be an unsympathetic opponent in a game. Although, if Neal had to think about it, his first games with Bryce probably set that tone.

Bryce certainly hadn't taken any prisoners while playing.

An idea occurred to him. If Neal could push the Intersect onto Chuck, without warning, then maybe Chuck would push something onto Neal without warning him.

Something like an old flame Neal had been certain nothing would happen with because he was just a con.

"You."

"Me what?" Chuck sounded oblivious and innocent. But, Chuck was very good at that. People tended to underestimate his abilities and he used that against them.

"You know who Sara is. You would know that she was probably coming to New York. And I know you have the skill to slip things into people's bags."

All was silent.

"Chuck!"

"Okay, so I needed to get the device to you guys in New York," Chuck said. "And so I was in the airport, wondering if I could just take a flight there and get back before anyone noticed-" Neal snorted at that. They would notice, even if it was only because Casey and Sarah had spent a good chunk of their time with Chuck being responsible for his safety and needing to know where he was at all times for their job. "Yeah, laugh it up. But the perfect answer just appeared before me in the form of your ex. Odds were that you just needed to meet again and have an honest talk, sans giant needles, for her to like you so I set that up and got the device where it needed to be!" Chuck sounded immensely proud of that.

"How'd you even know she'd bring it to me?"

"Oh, Sarah's coming over," Chuck said quickly. A little too quickly. "I don't know if you want her to know that we're in communication so-"

It took Neal a moment to realise that Chuck had hung up. He stared at his phone, which confirmed that the call had ended.

"Well?" Peter questioned when he was quiet for too long.

"Chuck was our guy in the airport," Neal sighed.

"So all we need to do is get the guys coming after Sara," Mozzie pointed out with a savage grin.

Neal couldn't help smiling a little as he explained that Chuck had used Sara to ferry the device to them and added that to Mozzie's 'to do' list. Mozzie was to look over it and see what he could pull off it.

"...that is acceptable," Mozzie conceded, snatching up the device. "And the Suits, plus Neal, can get the loose ends."

* * *

**Hurt**

The screen flashed red and a painful sound rang in Neal's ears. His character had been hurt.

"Ouch, that looked painful," Chuck's voice sounded through the computer's speakers. They were working together to complete a quest but it looked like they had bitten off more than they could chew. Neither of them had prepped for a dragon.

"Let me just get to a safe place," Neal said, _trying to move his character out of the line of fire. In the corner of his screen, he could see Chuck's paladin character rushing forward with their sword in their hand._

"Um, it this really necessary in order to communicate?" Sara questioned as she looked between Neal's determined face and the screen.

"Yes."

"No. But, Mozzie would not be happy if I was calling Chuck every other night to talk spy stuff." Although the set up was a little different this night. Since Sara needed to be able to communicate and hear, he had plugged in just a microphone and was relying on sup-par, built-in laptop speakers.

Sara had a frown on her face and was shifting in her seat and looking around. It was obvious that she was a little uncomfortable.

"So, you're a spy."

"I work for the CIA, yes," Chuck responded.

_Neal's character fired off a fireball spell. It did reduced damage. Apparently the dragon creature was resistant to fire._

"And you play computer games."

"He's made computer games as well," Neal pointed out. _He cast a healing circle and a green circle lit up around him, showing the area where the players could regenerate health. Chuck's paladin immediately moved inside the circle._

"I'm a little annoyed that you used me to traffic your stuff into New York," Sara said.

"Have you spoken to Neal?" Chuck said. "He can explain since he also used to be an agent."

"Yes. But he won't tell me things about when he was an agent."

"Because you don't have clearance," Neal responded. _And the dragon was charging towards him! He needed to get out, quick!_

"It's easy enough to change the stories so that clearance doesn't matter. Should I tell you one?"

"Chuck, no."

"That would be nice," Sara said, "thank you, Chuck."

"I will quit," Neal threatened.

"Leave me to face this dragon alone and I'll-" Chuck's sentence trailed off into Klingon and Neal stiffened. He didn't threaten again, playing with Chuck as Chuck told Sara about the time Bryce helped save his sister's wedding. Partway through, Neal's phone rang and Peter informed them that they caught the spies as they attempted to sneak into Junes. As planned. Sara had been the bait, making it clear that she was staying at Junes. It attracted the bad guys like flies to honey. With the threat diminished, Sara decided to stay for the end of Chuck's story. After the story, Neal insisted that he hadn't done anything to help save the wedding so Chuck launched into another story, this one more focused on Bryce.

The next morning found Sara was still in Neal's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I hope that ending wasn't too confusing. Anyway, it's up to you what Chuck said in Klingon but I'm thinking he told Neal that he would leave him to face the next enemies alone, indicating that their gaming association would end.


End file.
